Two Halves of One Whole, Two Parts of the Same Soul
by solice-in-silence
Summary: All they had was each other. Orphaned young, they have become everything to each other. AU, events immediately after AoU, Pietro lives. Warning: There will be incest. If you don't like that, please just don't read. Mature content.
1. Insomnia

Wanda had known many beds in her time. Lying in the dark she thought of them all.

The first bed she recalled was in their apartment back home. Back when they had a home, back when they had parents, when they still had more in this world than just each other. Things had been happier then, but never easier, money had always been in short supply. She and Pietro had shared a bed even then, through necessity more than anything else. Her mother had begun to broach the subject that a second bed would be needed, but as yet they still shared the same bed, it's iron bedstead older than any member of their family. Once it had been painted black, once it must have been a piece of be proud of, the metal curling into complicated patterns at the foot and head of the bed. Even by the time it reached the Maximoffs it was still beautiful enough to recall it's old majesty, even with the paint peeling and the iron bent in places. She could remember as a child lying there, watching the way the sunlight through the shapes would cast odd shadows, and how she would trace all the patterns with her finger, trying to get from one post to the other without repeating her steps. It has seemed safe, and she had imagined the bed was wise, magical, that it could take her to places in her dreams. Almost indestructible. Luckily for them.

After they had been pulled out from beneath it's shelter, she never saw it again. A pity. They had been two days of hell, she remembered them still, aching from keeping so still, hardly daring to move, shaking and trembling together, their hearts beating as one. The bed had protected them. It would have been nice to have kept it.

Then - the orphanage. Separated. The boys dormitory and the girls, and the first night they were ever supposed to have spent apart.

Exhaustion had tipped her into sleep, but fear and grief had torn her from it. In the night she had woken already weeping, struggling to breath for sobs. She had rolled over, to hide her face, to hide the noise - but in the adjacent room Pietro had already heard. He hadn't gone to sleep and in the dark he had come to her, not caring for the rules, he had come to comfort her. To protect but swift, like a Guardian Angel, he had padded out the boy's dorm and into the room where the girls slept. He had crawled into Wanda's bed and held her, shushed her, the two of them a cramped fit, despite their youth, in the little narrow bed.

Remembering that night she shivered. But the memory that was clearest was the feeling when he was with her. Of how alone she had felt, and how the burden was still there but so much easier to lift with him by her side. That...and the memory of the shocked realisation which had come some time later, when she remembered not all the tears had been her own, how her brother had wept silently, trying to keep his own pain under wraps to comfort hers.

How were they ever supposed to function apart?

They had been punished so many times in the orphanage, every night they were sent to separate beds, but every night they would find each other. Sometimes his bed, sometimes hers, sometimes together in the cold hallway, both their blankets brought for warmth, huddled and uncomfortable on the cold hard floor but better this then alone.

The worst night was when Pietro was locked away to stop him getting to her. She had howled, the noise more animal than human, when she could not reach him, screaming as though she were in pain, and she remembered the sound of his fists on wood and his curses as he tried to bridge the gap. Nobody in the orphanage had slept that night for listening to the grief of the twins.

The mistress gave up after that. Better they be left together, however odd they were, and everyone else get a peaceful nights rest. She had stopped fighting the bond between the twins and let them do as they wished, but not without a shudder of distaste as their oddness, their closeness, the way they were only complete when they were together.

They hadn't cared. What did it matter what other people thought if they were together? Why would they need other friends when they already had their perfect match?

After the orphanage, they had struggled to find anywhere to sleep. Quiet streets sometimes. Hostels. Sofas that belonged to other people, borrowed for a night or two. Nobody cared so much then, thought they huddled together for warmth, or out of practicality. It hadn't seemed important. The others cared more about the fight then looking for strangeness among the ranks. It had suited the twins. To spent the days fighting, organising, rioting, and the nights safe - they were always safe if they were together.

Till HYDRA found them.

Frowning she rolled over, as though to move away from the memory, but it came to her anyway.

They had agreed but oh, what they had agreed to. The ends justified the means of course, but the means - she would never forget the scepter's influence. How she felt sick when the exposures began, violently nauseous, it had felt like ice cold metal being poured through her veins, a cold so strong it burned like fire and the pain of it had been all she could think of, tendrils of agony from it's influence curling through every nerve in her brain. She could taste it on her tongue, like electric sparks and outer space, it had felt like how she imagined falling into a black hole would feel like. It had stolen her vision, and all her thoughts, all consuming, all encompassing. The only thing she had kept her going was the hand holding hers, fingers gripped so tight, knowing he felt the same thing. It didn't lessen the feeling, but had helped them survive.

The Baron put them in separate holding cells. But the sound of their pain that night - which had been worse, the pain of the procedure, or the separation? She couldn't tell, one had been in her body, the other in her heart and her mind, and both had been sharp - like animals believing they would die and whimpering, those sounds from both cells, in stereo - the guards had pitied them. Reunited them. Believed that, like all the others, they'd die anyway, that they might as well die as they had been born - together. But they survived and surprised everyone. Each night the guards let them stay together, and even when the Baron found out, he did not put a stop to it. They were the only survivors, precious because of it. If being together was what kept them going, let them be together.

Always together. That was how it worked. Their parents, the orphanage, the resistance, the doctors, Ultron - nobody had ever kept them apart.

Till the Avengers.

Last night they had slept on the jet, returning to America, slept sitting up with her head on his shoulder and their fingers entwined. But today they gave them two rooms in the facility - adjacent, but still two rooms. Bare little rooms.

They had gone to their rooms, but she could not sleep in here. It was not just these memories, it was everything. The sheets were cold around her, without the warmth of his body. The air was still and quiet without his breathing. She could not feel his heartbeat, the steady thump that spoke of security.

She could bear it no longer, and rose from the bed, throwing back the covers so the white sheets billowed dramatically in the moonlight as she moved. Opening the door she peeked out into the hallway, listening to all her senses, not just her eyes. Her eyes glowed scarlet as she listened. Sleepers. Many sleepers. And silence. Nobody to see her as she slipped out her room, silently closing the door behind her, and padded on bare feet to the next door along. Her fingers sought the handle immediately, she did not bother to knock as she eased the door slowly opened and slipped into the room like a wraith.

He was awake, in bed, sat up, and there was a smug smile as he looked across to her. She felt his gaze and felt the the cheek of it more than saw it, knew how he'd look without light because his was the face she knew better than her own.

No need to tell him she couldn't sleep, no need to tell him anything at all - the other side of her own heart.

"You took your time. Thought you were never coming".


	2. First Kiss

"I was considering letting you rest" she lied. "From the injury..."

There was an awkward silence between them as they thought of his wound.

He remembered the pain - knowing it was coming and yet knowing that, for once, he could not move fast enough. That he was going to get hurt if he saved Hawkeye and the child, and he had to save them - not so much for the archer, as for the little boy. One of their people. Sokovian. It was important to keep them safe, but in the moment when he knew he was going to be injured, he had thought of Wanda. Thought about the fact that if he died...she'd know, and how he wouldn't be going back for her. All that had mattered in those seconds was his twin, in that moment he'd wished he could send her a message just as she could do to him. Then the bullets had hit, two - both in his side. The pain had burned, and then he'd heard her voice screaming his name, so loud inside his head he'd winced from that as well as he fell to the ground.

She remembered the panic, the fear and the anger. From the moment he had left, part of her had gone with him, just the tiniest thread. She couldn't focus on him completely and fight, but she accepted the risk of the distraction because the distraction of not knowing would have been far worse. All she had held onto was his mind. If she wanted to, Wanda could see out other people's eyes, she could almost inhabit their bodies if she really tried - she could read all their thoughts and feelings. But all she had done was clung to the edge of his conscious, in the corner of her brain, not knowing where he was but that he was OK. Then he wasn't OK and she had screamed, screamed, and red had flooded out from her. In that moment all her fears seemed to have come true, everything seemed wasted - they might win, but if the cost was Pietro, how could she count it a victory? Her heart tore in fear and she sank to the floor. For just a second it all seemed dark. Then she had registered he was still alive, it was faint and he was in pain, but alive - and she had risen to her feet and fought all the harder. Whilst his heart still beat she would fight, so they could be back together. She remembered how wrong it felt when it was Vision who rescued her. She remembered being reunited, where Pietro lay, struggling to breath, the fact he was so still seeming wrong because Pietro never stayed still - but he had smiled when he saw her and she had gone to his side, watching them patch him up with a look on her face so fierce the medics hands shook under her glare.

He remembered the moment they were reunited, when he opened her eyes and saw her, the way she hadn't even stopped to thank Vision or speak to anyone else as she reached for him. He remembered the odd pang of anger he'd felt at seeing her in somebody else's arms, saved by another person - guilt that he hadn't been there, and jealousy to. That was his role.

And they both remembered the moment just before they separated. Alone in the church, two minutes by themselves. How they'd reached for each other in stereo, their voices at the same time asking 'are you alright?' How there had been a last embrace - an embrace which in the moment had made perfect sense. His arms around her waist in a brief hug, hers curled around his neck. Her ordering him away, his sarcastic response.

 _"Get people on the boats"_

 _"I'm not going to leave you here"_

 _"I can handle this...Come back for me when everyone else is gone. Not before. You understand?"_

 _"You know, I am twelve minutes older than you"_

 _"Go"_

 _He leans into her first. He moves, but she doesn't pull away, or stand still shocked, she follows suits and leans in. They kiss, brief but hard, their mouths together, lips parted, her fingers on his shoulders, hers on his hips. There is a moment that lasts forever as they kiss - another first they experience together - and then an explosion. The grounds shakes. They pull apart, turn away. They both prepare to fight - but both look back. Just once._

They were silent as they remembered. At the time it made perfect sense. One kiss, the first, maybe the last. But they've had time to think since then, to look at other people. The kiss - and her lie, that she stayed away for others reasons - hangs in their air between them. Divides them. They both feel it.

Pietro moved first - just as he always had since they were little - and pushed back the covers, welcoming her back into the place where she always occupied.

Crossing the room she climbed in, but things were different. The space was not so familiar. As she wrapped her arm across her stomach she was newly careful, worried about touching the new skin Helen Cho had crafted him. Worried about hurting him, and she had never felt that concern before - that other people might hurt him, of course, but never that she could. The way he held her seemed different to, she was so aware of his arms, the muscle in his bicep beneath her neck felt tense, his fingers didn't relax but stayed stiff. He didn't smooth her hair and settle close to her, they were...separate.

For the first time ever she was tempted to read him. Before today, she had never had to.

Pietro hesitated to touch her. Yesterday she had seemed so different. Not his little sister (those twelve minutes were all important) who needed his protection but...somebody else. Somebody grown up, and powerful, and fiercely female, and beautiful with it. Somebody he didn't know.

They both feel the change. But it doesn't feel wrong...just different. A new beginning.

"Pietro..."

Of course she would speak. She always thinks, always speaks - he always acts. And so he does now. As she turned to look at him he kisses her again. And again she doesn't break away, doesn't stop him. Instead she presses closer to him.

They don't taste like anything, or maybe they taste the same and can't distinguish between where one mouth stops and the other starts.

But what he does feel is the heat of her, her tongue like fire, and her body, soft flesh and warm, her torso pressed into his side.

And she feels is his strength, both new to this but he leads instinctively, his tongue slipping into her mouth, one hand moving to the back of her head, sliding into her hair, as though to hold her close even though she has no wish to move away.


	3. Together - NSFW

For a moment they pulled apart. In the dark, all they could see of each other other was the outline of their faces, it was just possible to make out shadowy features, and the glint of each others eyes, and yet for a moment they looked at each other as though those little pinpricks of light were enough to tell them everything they had to know.

Neither asked 'are you sure?'

Instead, their lips came back together. Pietro rolled on top of her, nudging her legs apart and lying between them. One hand moved, bracing against the mattress, worried about resting his full weight on her. The other slid up into her hair, wrapping into the strands.

Her hands run up his back, exploring the flat planes of muscles beneath his skin, familiar and new at the same time.

They kiss as though they'll never come up for air again, mouths hungry, eager, they press as close as possible and keep pressing as though it would be possible for them to truly become one person, and they kiss as though they've invented the activity.

For a long time they think of nothing, say nothing, the only sound is the occasional gasp for air and the wet noise their mouths make as they rejoin.

It's a first for both of them - another memory they will treasure together. It's not that it would be hard for them to have found other people, both of them were attractive enough but their bond has always been so all-consuming, they were so engrossed in their twinship and in the fate of their country, that even the brief periods of time when it might have been suitable to look for romance, it had never seemed worth it. People look for love to find their other half, to be completed. The twins never needed soulmates. They had each other.

It seemed forever passes before it occurs to either of them to take the next step - forever or no time at all, it's impossible to judge whilst kissing.

It's him of course, as ever - Pietro has been the first in almost everything they've ever done. First to walk, first to run, first to talk even. The bold one, the impatient one. His hands finally escape her hair, and begin to learn her body, his palm skates down her side, fingers brushing the swell of her breast, and then under her clothes onto bare skin.

There is still hours till morning, and they've lasted a lifetime without this, but now his touch moves rapidly, as though there's a deadline. His fingers drag at her skin slightly, friction adding to the heat between them, as his hands learn the shape of her breast, her ribs, the dip of her waist - the movement almost too rough to be called a caress. It's not long before it's not enough, and finally Pietro tugs her shirt, peeling it upward although he hasn't yet broken the kiss, and a low chuckle of laughter escapes her as she pulls away, intending to help him with her shirt, but he leans towards her as though reluctant to break the kiss even if it's necessary so she can get her top off.

"I'm not going anywhere" Wanda whispers, and giving up on her top for a moment he kisses her again, smiling even as he does so.

"I know. I want to see you" he admits, although they both know that taking her top off won't help with that in the dark.

"Hang on". She pushes him gently, Pietro rolling off her. The red flare around her hand seems very bright in this black, wreathing her fingers as they wiggle and tendrils of magic creep toward the window, separating the blinds so strips of bright white moonlight enter the room, enough to see by, enough to turn the dark into shadowy grey. Enough that Pietro watches as she takes her shirt off and casts it aside, watches as she looks at him and smiles. Her hair hangs down her front, mermaid tendrils masking her breasts, and knowing where his gaze has fallen she lifts one hand and brushes her hair back.

There's no embarrassment, no awkwardness, she's not shy of her body - not at the usual times, and not now with him looking at her, and she can read his approval without needing to touch his mind.

They kiss again, and both his hands go to her breasts, cupping the weight, his thumbs circling her nipples in a movement that makes her breath hitch in her throat. She can feel the smug smile on his lips at that noise, that he made that noise, the expression disturbing their kiss and she wants...revenge is too harsh a word of course, but whatever else, they are still siblings. Teasing and a competitive nature are a part of that.

Her hands reaches between his legs. If she had thought about this before, she might have been nervous, but she hadn't let herself thinking about what she'd be doing, only _I'll show you who can get a reaction, then we'll see whose smug big brother_ and so her fingers were daringly confident as the stroked along his pyjama pants, finding the shape of him, and then curled around him a movement that broke their kiss as he groaned suddenly.

"Didn't see that coming?" she teased. The words, stolen from him, make him laugh for real and she kisses him harder to muffle the noise, not sure where everyone else is sleeping and not wanting them to be overheard.

He knows why she silenced him, but he's not letting her win that easily, tumbling her down onto the bed again, still kissing her as his hand runs lower, sliding between her legs as her own fingers find a way inside her pants and but at his touch on her bare skin she suddenly finds it hard to concentrate. It's tricker for him, he realises as his hands slip inside her shorts, and not just because the way her palm is sliding up and down him is making his blood sizzle in his veins.

Boys are easy. But as his fingers touch her, he can feel folds of skin, slick beneath his touch, and he isn't even sure where to begin. For a second he wishes he was the one who could read minds, but without that, he'll have to go off her reactions.

His touch is gentle, his teeth gritted in fact with the effort of keeping his touch soft when he's so eager to feel her and hear her moan and make her feel the way she's making him feel, and all it's even harder because she hasn't stopped touching him. No kissing now, he needs to concentrate, his forehead against hers, so close they're breathing the same air - he knows because he can feel how warm it is when he inhales.

There. He brushes a spot and he feels her twitch in his arms, her gasp sharp and her grip on him tightens for a moment.

"Like that?"

"Like you need to ask" she murmurs, and he knows she'd be rolling her eyes if she could - if they weren't closed and if he wasn't continuing to stroke that spot, the movement so slight it seemed unbelievable it would elicit such a reaction as she bites her lip to try and keep quiet.

"Lie back". He pulls her hand off him, gently, fingers around her wrist as he pushed her flat and crawls backwards down the bed.

They're virgins, not completely isolated. He knows about the act even if he's never done it before.

She lies back, shuffling slightly to get comfortable, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as he yanks her shorts off although she's clearly paying attention as she lifts her hips to help him. But for a moment she can't look at him, biting her lap, her hands resting lightly on her stomach. Then she feels his tongue, wet and warm, the touch gentle but just where she wants it, just where his fingers were, and her eyelids flutter shut. Her hands relax slightly, and Pietro takes that as encouragement to continue, hands on her thighs as he begins to learn one of the few parts of her body not already familiar to him. She's slick beneath his tongue and salty, and as his tongue explores he can hear her begin to gasp, her hips rocking up against his mouth and if his mouth weren't otherwise engaged he'd smile.

He begins to focus, his tongue circling the spot she wants - he's not interested in teasing, in dragging this out. Maybe something other time, but not tonight. His impatient streak is winning tonight, and he puts his unique talents to the use in seeing how fast he can lap his tongue against her, one hand sliding down and his fingers slipping inside her, the touch of those gentle and slow compared his mouth. The sound of her breathing, gasping and struggling and hitching in her throat, makes him feel more powerful then he's ever felt before.

Wanda can't tell how long this goes on, all she can focus on is the growing heat in her stomach, her blood rushing, struggling to breath and keep herself quiet. Her fingers claw at the covers, wrapping into the sheets, glowing red though she can't tell it. All she knows is her brother is making her feel something new and her mind is blank, her eyes shut and white stars against the black as her muscles begin to tense, as though something is coiling in her stomach, she can feel the pressure building inside her body and she rocks her hips against his touch, eager to meet the edge.

"Oh - please!" The noise escapes her despite her best efforts as her whole body goes stiff for a moment, muscles tight, her back arched off the bed and her head thrown back as waves of pleasures burst through her...and then she collapses against the mattress, limp, gasping for breath.

Pietro crawls up her body, pressing kisses against her hipbones, her stomach, her chest, before he's finally level with her face again and she lifts her head off the pillows to kiss him. He tastes like salt now, like her body, giving the kiss a new flavour, and her tongue slides into his mouth eagerly. One hand lifts from the mattress, stroking down his bare chest and then curls around his cock, which feels hot against her palm - and harder then before.

Spreading her legs wider she guides him toward her and Pietro breaks the kiss, hesitating.

"I know...I know it'll hurt" she murmurs, crooning the words to comfort him. Wanda knows how he thinks, that he's spent his life keeping her safe, the idea of hurting her jars in his mind and holds him back. Gently she kisses his jaw before whispering in his ear.

"Just go slow, ok? For once in your life..."

The joke is meant to make him smile, but he's unusually serious as he nods and does as she asks, his hands braced by her face as he awkward positions himself, missing the first time, but then he gets it and she's warm around him and it feels so good he drops his head to her shoulder, biting his lip in the effort to hold back and go slow. for a moment neither moves, and then it's her that shifts her hips, leaning up against him, drawing him in. Her hands stay on his hips, gripping him, she is the one in charge as she furrowed her brows, tense with nerves now.

How much was it supposed to hurt? It felt...uncomfortable more than anything, like the ache in a muscle the day after you've overworked it. But then - no, there it was the pain, she hissed but moved closer to him in the same moment, _get it over with_ was the thought in her mind. Pietro lifted his head, struggling to focus but for her he would, he frowned as well now as he looked at her.

"OK?"

"OK".

Softly they begin to kiss, their mouths like butterflies brushing flowers, just gentle touches, little kisses as she gets her breath back and relaxes. It's her who moves again, just a tiny rocking movement of her hips again his, her set shoulders the only sign that the friction that has him moaning against her lips is uncomfortable for her. Lying to each other is difficult, but Pietro is thankfully distracted.

It does get easier, and she relaxes, exhaling slowly and deepening the kiss now - as much as she can, Pietro's mind is about a foot lower than her mouth and it's mostly her doing all the kissing as he begins to thrust, fast, hard, deep against her, louder than her as well he moans and she lifts both hands and threads her fingers into his hair to keep his mouth against hers and keep him muffled. It doesn't work in the last moment, their lips break apart as he pushes against her, his eyes closed as he exclaims -

"Fuck!"

And comes, shuddering and almost collapsing down on her afterward.

For a moment they lay still, letting him get his breath before he rolls off her. They don't separate though, she moves immediately to rest her cheek against his shoulder, his arm looped around her back. They are quiet, both reflective, till he presses a kiss against her temple to get her attention. Besides - what is there to say right now?


	4. Mornings

There had never been a time when he did not know his sister as well as he did himself. When he did not know how she would think. Sometimes they hardly needed to speak, she might be the mind-reader, but he could guess what would leave her mouth more often then not. It never stopped them of course - the teasing language that had always been their communication was too much fun to abandon just because it was familiar, and there are times when comfort spoken out loud has more power.

It was a surprise - a pleasant one though - to now find there were things about her he did not know. Even after last night.

As Wanda slept, he studied her.

People thought him impatient, but what they didn't understand was how _slow_ they all seemed to him. It was like living in a world where everyone else moved through water, or treacle. It felt natural to sprint, more natural now than it did to make himself slow down and walk like everyone else did. He had never been a deep thinker, action was his style - Wanda was the mind, and he the body - but now he could act so quickly at time the rest of the world seemed unbearably slow. Boring.

But this morning he was at peace, there was no urge to move. He lay and he studied her like a archaeologist might scrutinise a newly discovered relic. Eager, but not to begin, just look. His gaze studied the long tendrils of hair hair, where the dark strands fell past her shoulders, the way they hid her chest, the pale skin peeking between fronds. One finger stroked slowly along her flesh, discovering freckles he did not know - had he forgotten them, or never known she had these dots along her back, like a constellation mapped on her body. He studied the line of her hipbone, the uppermost standing out against her skin and casting a shadow, a ridge of bone marked only by the bruise of his kisses. She seemed so much more fragile like this, pale and unformed, so young, so different. Instinctively his arm tightened around her.

It took just that movement for her to begin to wake. A life time of troubles made them both shallow sleepers, expecting danger, and she began to stir as though thinking the way his arm had pulled her close meant danger. He leaned down and kissed her temple softly, reassuring her, but still her eyes opened.

"Nothing to worry about". They were so unaccustomed to safety, and his protective instinct was as strong as ever, to make sure she knew immediately they were fine.

Her body relaxed again at those words, but she still woke up. There was a moment where she seemed confused, beginning to stir, and then the night's memories returned.

Looking up at him she was silent for a moment, the two studying each others gaze as though their actions would show. As though to check nobody else could tell what they had been up to.

After a moment she registered it was still more dark then light, the early grey dawn just before the sun rises.

"What time is it?" she murmured, shifting as though to roll, but Pietro's hand around her back kept her close and he glanced to the clock for her.

"5am"

She was quiet for a moment, considering. Her expression was well known, and newly dear to him, the vacant look, her eyes glazed as though she saw something he didn't. As though they were a million miles away.

Leaning down he brought their lips together, his own eyes closing in a way that felt like a reflex as he kissed her, soft and gentle but still insistent. Bringing her back to him. When he pulled away and her own lids lifted, her gaze focused on him this time, her mind once more in the moment and a slight smirk at the corner of her mouth.

"My thinking of anything else for even a moment offends you so?"

"You are here with me. I want you to be with me" he told her simply, not actually teasing her for once but the mischievous light behind his eyes was clear even in at this hour. "What were you thinking?"

"That the Captain is an easy riser and it would be better if he didn't see me return to my room from yours".

"He wouldn't know why, he wouldn't know what we did".

"He's still sees. And he may mention it to _her_. Natasha. She is clever. Very clever".

A beat of silence.

"You could make him forget". Wanda shook her head immediately, moving to sit up slightly, propping herself against the wall with the pillow at her back. One hand lifted to his hair, stroking the blonde strands down gently.

"He is the one who let us join. He gave us a chance. He believes in us. I would not want to sour that, so soon". Their relationship with the team was bound to be rocky at first, she was a realist in that respect. The fact that Banner was gone...she wouldn't say she was glad, that would be unkind, but it certainly smoothed their way. He had the most rage toward the twins. The rest - some could understand their actions a little. Natasha, she had done things she regretted too, before she changed, before she decided to wipe out 'the red in her ledger'. The Captain knew what it was like to risk anything for your country. Barton - well, Pietro saved his life, that put them in his better books. But it was still going to take time. Wanda knew she couldn't manipulate them - it would only make it worse.

"What does he think of us? What do all of them think?"

She glanced to him sideways, raising an eyebrow. The question was unspoken but obvious to him - since when did he care what people thought? That was her role.

"We joined them. We should know the people we're fighting with. So we know we're doing the right thing". Only she would have heard the guilt in that tone, even the way he looked away could have been a sign of reflection rather than self loathing. But she knew her brother well. He persuaded her to let Stryker use them...and they'd ended up as part of HYDRA. Joining Ultron, she'd held back and he'd been eager - that had not gone well either. This time he wanted things to be better. Her fingers slid deeper into his hair, stroking along his head and then down the back of his neck as she spoke, her words honest but her touch gentle to reassure him, to comfort him.

"The Captain...he understands the most why we went to Stryker. He also understands our feelings toward Stark, or at least, he thinks he does - and the two of them - he and Stark - they don't always see eye to eye. He won't blame us for what we think of Stark" She frowned slightly as she spoke about the Captain, as though troubled but her words were admiring. "He is...good. Noble. The best of them. He always wants to do the right thing, all the time. He is a fair. While he doesn't agree with all our actions...he sees the motivation. He will let us make...restitution". Touching Steve Rogers mind was odd. Without a doubt, he was an idealist, somebody who would not take short cuts, who would always strive to do the right thing. And fear, as well, fear that the world could not be the way he wanted it. Of their new 'friends' he was the one she trusted the most though - there was so much good in that heart. So much bravery. He could be a symbol of hope.

"The red head?" Pietro prompted her.

"Natasha. She is...I think the most like us, she feels she cannot judge. She was trained to kill, and she did kill, for many years - like a tool, like a gun, a weapon. No mind or conscience, just pointed toward the target and expected to act. She has changed now, but she did a lot of terrible things for a very long time. She feels guilty. Natasha...makes no excuses for her mistakes and will not excuse ours, but she understands what it's like to want to change. What I did to the big one...the doctor...in South Africa...that she is not happy about but she's keeping the rage bottled up". Her mind had so much going on but her face showed so little, that was what Wanda noticed about Natasha. She hid things well. On the surface she was all logic and intelligence, but still waters run deep.

"Hawkeye...is very grateful you saved his life. And very angry I controlled their minds. Very loyal to all of his friends. He feels a little more straight forward. He is trying his best. And he'll take his cues from the Captain, when it comes to us. Then he'll try and work on Natasha".

"Thor?"

She shook her head, frowning again.

"Weighed down by so much more...he has seen so many things. His mind is hard to hold onto, it feels...bigger than a human mind. He kept thinking about things I hardly understood. But the hammer...you have to be 'worthy'. He cannot be bad...and keep his power. For him...it's more responsibility than it anything else, he wants peace but he feels so responsible. There are many things weighing on his mind. He sees a much bigger picture. I don't know - he is hard. He does not hate us. We seem...insignificant still, to him. A part of him feels sorry for us, because our powers came from the Scepter which humanity shouldn't have had, so he feels like his brother bringing it to Earth - this makes us partly his fault. You see? So many things are connected in his mind and the things not of this Earth are harder to grasp". Wanda was frowning again, struggling to explain how it felt to touch Thor's mind - like she was linking into a galaxy of stars almost, not a man. He was good, they had nothing to worry from him...but that was partly because they registered lower down his list of priority then other things.

"He kept thinking about gems. Infinity gems" she murmured. There hadn't been time to understand it all.

"And what do they think about _us_?" That made her smile as she looked back to her brother. His impatience might drive other people crazy, but she found it familiar and therefore more comforting than his introspection.

"They all think...we are very close. Luckily, most of them are only children. The Captain, Stark, Natasha, the Doctor - Thor has a brother but it is...complicated. Hawkeye...he has a brother too. None of them have a sister. None of them have a twin. They all think we are the way we are because we are twins and we are orphans. They...think it's a little odd - some of them very odd - but they don't really suspect".

 _Yet_ remained unspoken but hung in the air between them.

He nodded, glancing toward the door then up at her face. People had thought they were odd before. It had never changed them before. But he supposed things would be different now, wouldn't they? After all - there had never been anything to hide before. She was frowning, distracted again still, her mind creeping out into the hallways. There would be time enough to think about other people, or work out how act.

Right now, he pulled her down for another kiss.


	5. Assemble

_**Avengers...Assemble!**_

The tannoy announcement rung out around the facility, and the twins looked at each other - moments like this their bond was so clear, not just mentally, emotionally, but genetically. They wore the same expression, like mirror images, each with an eyebrow raised incredulously and thinking the same thing - 'Does that have to be so loud?'

He was up in a second, both hands sliding underneath her body to scoop her up, holding her as he flashed down the hallway and into the large training room. They were the first ones there, but there was only a few moments before they were joined by the rest.

Vision. Sam. Rhodey.

Natasha and the Captain arrived together and took in the scene, and she hardly even needed to reach out, the Captain's thoughts were so loud they rang across the space to her own mind.

 _How am I going to put these guys together?_

She bristled despite herself, folding her arms and lifting her chin. He hadn't even thought that they were the problem, the Captain was just thinking about how he'd pull them together and she tried to relax her defensive posture even as Pietro shifted to mimic it - he didn't even know why she was on edge, but unconsciously, he adjusted his position to match hers. Different people. Different groups. Different talents. It had taken the Cap awhile to bring together the last group, had tested his leadership as he tried to rein in Stark, reassure Banner, tie the allegiances together - now it began again.

"You're all here because you came to be Avengers. But being an Avenger - it's never a game. It's not a role. It's not something you can pick up and put down, it's not a time to play at being hero. It's a duty. A burden. At times the weight seems heavy. It's about sacrifice. Maybe the ultimate sacrifice. There can never be a short cut, or half measures. The Avengers...it's a title that still means something to the world. We have to live up to their expectations. After what's happened recently..."

There was a pause, as they all considered. The collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D revealing HYDRA beneath. The Hulk and the Iron Man in a fight that tore apart a city. The links to Ultron. They all knew more than the media, but the media had still had a field day. The Avengers weren't considered heroes, not by everyone. Some people thought they were trouble.

Wanda knew that well. After all - she and Pietro had numbered themselves among those who didn't trust the Avengers, until very recently.

"We have to do better, to be better. To fix things, to redeem our name, to earn their trust once more so we can do the job we all signed up for. And before that...we have to trust each other. Train together. We have to be a team".

Silence, the weight of his words affected them all. They all felt the importance of this moment. They knew it was a tough job, but every person in this room wanted to be worthy of the Captain's trust, to have the right to name themselves an Avenger. A room full of good intentions.

Her fingers reached out and found Pietro's had already moved to take hers, their hands clasped together and they squeezed in tandem.

The Captain didn't ask if they were ready, but he looked at them one by one. As he looked at her she almost felt as though he were the one who could read minds, as though he could see through her, and she swallowed.

"We have strength. Speed. Intelligence. Flight. Firepower. We have abilities in this room nobody on Earth can match". His gaze flickered rapidly, Vision to Wanda, the two biggest anomalies in the team. "Now we show that that we are a force to be reckoned with...but not to be feared, not by those who are innocent".

"I know, from experience, how great a thing the Avengers can be. How great a team can be, with a shared goal. But it has to be a team. We have to trust each other. We have to work together. That doesn't mean no secrets - but it does mean honesty about our intents, our motivations, our plans. We have to be united or it's all for nothing".

Now they looked around at each other. Vision's gaze showed only benign curiosity and indulgence, but both Sam and Rhodey glanced at the twins as though not so sure, and the twins drew closer together. Pietro's fingers curled more tightly around hers, and she knew he wanted to pull her closer still.

She could feel some doubt edging into the room - even in the Captain's mind.

"Not just motive. Action. What are we prepared to do. What is too much compromise" she reminded him, drawing his mind back to what began to tore them apart last time. Everyone had a vision...everyone had different ideas on how to get there, and it tore them all apart. They have come back together before the end, but that was where the cracks started. The Captain nodded.

"No compromises. No cutting corners. Whenever it begins, it slides. If we want to do the right thing - it has to always be the right thing. No easy way out" he stressed again. "Agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

"Well then. We train. In a battle, we will always need to know how each other fights. It should be seamless - one unit. The closer we can work together, the faster, the better - the better chance we'll have of winning".

"How?" Pietro speaking this time and Wanda smirked and dropped her head to hide it. Of course her brother would want to get through the speech, through the inspiration plan, and down to the basics. They didn't here to talk, and speeches wouldn't save the day. Keep them for when it mattered. Right now they were here to practice.

"Team up. We'll pit ourselves against each other - carefully" he added, glancing around as though that part needed to be said. "Nobody tried to actually injure each other. I need you all in fighting shape. But we learn each other moves, figure out how we can enhance them. Anticipate them. And then we re-group in new combinations, and keep at it. Any objections?"

Silence.

"Well then. Wanda, Rhodey, with me. Nat - Sam, Vision and Pietro" he said, no room for argument. The twins looked at each other, stunned. They'd never fought on opposing sides before. They'd never been separated. As the others began to line up the Captain walked down to them, still standing there, hands entwined.

"It's just training. And you already know each other moves - you have to be able to work with the rest of us. Not just each other. It's not just you two against the world anymore" he added, the last sentence more gentle, as though he saw the fear in their eyes at being pulled apart.

The twins turned to each other, staring into each eyes for a moment, before Pietro smirked.

"Scared, sister? Worried I'll beat you?"

"Just worried about hurting you" she shot back, letting go of his hand as they pulled apart.

Time to begin their new life.


	6. Bonding

Breakfast was awkwardly quiet.

Wanda kept her head down, her eyes lowered to the toast she nibbled, as though her thoughts were miles aways...which they were, in a way. Her eyelids lowered helped hide the glow of scarlet in her irises as she gently probed the minds around her.

The archer, Hawkeye, having said his goodbyes was thinking of the promise he had made, already thinking about his wife, his children. Black Widow, her thoughts on the Hulk, wondering where he might be, kicking herself in equal amounts for the fact she waited for so long and the fact she ever let herself feel in the first place. Rhodey, focused on nothing but maple syrup, bacon and pancakes. Sam and the Cap seemed to have tuned into the same frequencies - Bucky - the word glowed in both their minds and she glanced up curiously, couldn't help herself, but dropped her gaze a second later. Pietro saw though.

"What?" he murmured, the words in Sokovian to stop anyone else understanding but she shook her head. As she replied in their native language she kept her tone casual, they might have been discussing the weather.

"Hawkeye and Black Widow - they speak Russian. Hungarian. They might be able to figure out what we say". She kept the sentence as short as possible, trying not to attract attention. They couldn't rely on their mother tongue for secrets - nobody here spoke Sokovian, but it was an Eastern European language, it shared features with Russian, German, Hungarian - and even if it wasn't similar enough they could figure out half the language from what they knew of others, they were smart. They might learn. The only time they could speak freely was when they were alone.

"Something to share with the class?" Hawkeye asked, an eyebrow raised. No flash of understanding though. A beat of silence.

"I can't believe you Americans have Poptarts for breakfast" was Pietro's response. His own choice of meal betrayed his sweet tooth - although, frankly, her brother could and would eat almost anything. Had to keep eating, the increased metabolism that was the side effect of his power. "This is the Capitalism we were warned about in Sokovia?"

"The evils of S.H.I.E.L.D - tooth decay and sugar rush at 9am" Wanda quipped back, her comment aimed at her twin, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth but she saw the slight amusement reflected by others around the table as well.

"This isn't S.H.I.E.L.D" the Captain pointed out. Everyone glanced around, as though to confirm they were going to discuss this, over coffee and cereals, sat around a breakfast table, some of them hadn't even showered yet. Barely awake and discussing the details of the future?

Apparently so.

"You don't want to ally again? Even with Fury and Hill in charge?" Rhodey questioned, sounding disbelieving.

"No. I think it's better if we're independant. There's been too much trouble already. We need to ensure that...the new Avengers we're building - that we follow our own path. S.H.I.E.L.D - it was too large. All those layers of government - it was dangerous. It's why it couldn't meet it's original intentions". Wanda probed him oh so gently. Felt his distrust of anything so large, so many layers, people who set the path weren't those who carried it out - he thought that was part of the problem. He didn't want them to make that mistake.

"The Avengers should be solo. We can work with Fury...but it's better this way". The poor soldier, burned so many times he couldn't trust anyone. Her heart ached for him even though she thought he was right. Wanda wasn't one for trusting government or faceless corporations either. A small team had a much better chance of doing good.

But just how small?

Stark and Hawkeye had both announced they were quitting, throwing in the towel in favour of the simple life. Thor was already planning on leave, she could see that too even if he hadn't announced it yet. The Hulk was already gone. They might have all been replaced, but the Cap thought a few more bodies would still be necessary - but where would he find them?

Before they'd spoken it had been a casual breakfast, the silence had been the easy going and relaxed. They'd all been head down, still in the process of waking up really, focused on their food.

Now the silence was heavy and awkward. Like was so often the case at the moment, conversation had turned to weighty subjects. The future. Rebuilding. There were so many questions, so much to arrange.

"You know what we need?" Pietro broke the silence, and his tone didn't match the seriousness of the conversation they'd just been having, he sounded flippant, casual, and Wanda found the corner of her mouth was already twitching just waiting to hear what he'd say next.

"Outfits".

They looked around each other, a few people just looking shocked, but smiles starting on several faces.

"In the cartoons, superhero teams, they always have matching costumes. That's what we need. We've got our priorities all wrong. Matching lycra outfits" Pietro repeated, nothing in his manner suggested he was joking as he dipped bacon in maple syrup and bit it off, glancing around the table innocently as though to gauge a reaction.

Wanda giggled first, Hawkeye was grinning, Rhodey was already shaking his head - even the Captain had relaxed a little. The mood was relaxed again.

"That means we need a colour scheme" Wanda rejoined.

"What's wrong with the red, white and blue? It's working for the Cap and me" Rhodey pointed out, not seeming impressed at the idea his suit might need a spray paint.

"Too American. The Avengers - we're global, aren't we? If we are not aligned with S.H.I.E.L.D, if we're intended to be independant - well wearing your 'stars and stripes' doesn't really go with that plan now, does it?"

"I vote purple"

"Oh hell no, I can't be the War Machine in lilac"


	7. Payback

Running, for Pietro, had never seemed that important before the scepter's influence. These days he loved it. He had a feeling it was more the thrill of the speed than anything else - other guys might lust over motorbikes and cars, but he could beat them on his feet - what use did he have for vehicles?

That was one of the reasons he ran in the mornings. The joy of the speed. But there were others too.

The chance to feel free was part of it. Stryker had kept them locked up, hidden inside, saying they were too valuable to risk - he'd hated that. Stone walls hadn't suited him, he'd craved fresh air. If it hadn't been for Wanda, and her reminding him of why they'd signed up in the first place, he'd have escaped the first chance he got. Being outside, all open sky and space helped him relax, helped take the edge of the tension and his temper which was never far below the surface.

Part of it was he literally just had to burn the energy off. He couldn't keep still for too long, the urge to move was like an itch beneath his skin, he had to fidget. Keeping still made his mood anxious and keyed up, he ended up on edge and irritated, irrationally annoyed about almost nothing. Running, he was finding, got that out his system. Kept his calm. And he needed to keep calm these days. Wanted to keep calm, as well. He wanted to work with the Avengers. He couldn't afford to be angry and rash, his twin helped, but he had to get it out.

And lastly - when they'd saved Sokovia he'd been so out of breath by the end. It wasn't enough to sprint in short bursts, he needed stamina.

That was why he went running every morning, early usually, nothing but a blue flash - people he passed probably blinked and thought they needed their morning coffee.

He wasn't the only Avenger doing this either, although the others stayed close to the facility he'd noted. Pietro didn't bother, he knew how quickly he could be back. But he had noted the Captain and Falcon were up early a lot as well, he didn't join them but he was aware of it.

Leaving his bedroom one morning, he discovered they were aware of him too.

"Pietro".

"Morning Sam" he said, a little on his guard still. He wasn't thrilled to find Falcon leaning on the wall outside his bedroom so early. Nothing personal, just he and Wanda would really prefer people not be hanging around outside their rooms.

"Got a favour to ask you" he said, falling into step beside Pietro as they began their way through. the favour had Pietro grinning before they'd even got outside. Of course he agreed.

For the first time he headed down to the track. It was a good morning. Clear skies, the weather still just cool enough to be pleasant. And the Captain running laps. Pietro tilted his head to one side, flashed a smirk at Falcon, and set off. The pace for him was really more like jogging than running - he could have gone much faster without breaking a sweat. But it was still faster than the Captain.

"On your left!"

He could hear Sam was already laughing, although the Captain didn't seem to figure it out so quickly. Pietro sped up a little, hurtling around the track, so that a minute later he could slow down to overtake the Captain again.

"On your left"

"What-"

He was smirking to himself as he sped up, almost slowing down to late so as he said it for the third time he'd almost passed the Captain already -

"On your left!"

This time Steve got it, and he heard the Captain start to laugh. Pietro turned, slowing down and then halting himself to watch as Sam approached, slapping the Captain on the shoulder with a grin. After a moment he walked toward the two of them, wanting to be part of the joke.

"Man, revenge feels good" Sam said, shaking his head with a grin.

"Does it class as revenge if you have to outsource it?" Steve asked.

"Good enough for me" Sam responded, holding out a hand to Pietro. For a moment he didn't move, before slowly - even by anyone's standards - reaching out his own hand and taking it, and the two men shook.

 _So,_ he reflected as he released Sam's hand. _This was how it was to have friends._ For so long, Wanda had been the only person he had in his whole life who mattered. But this...this was not so bad.


	8. Confidences

"You draw?"

The Captain jumped slightly at her words. Wanda might not be quick, unlike her brother, but she was soft footed and she could move quietly. She had gotten close to him, curious as to what had him quiet and hunched over and alone. Padding closer and peering over his shoulder she'd seen it was a pencil in his hand, moving gently over the page and a sketch of a pretty brunette woman's face, lovingly rendered.

The picture had appeared in his mind before, she had known it would appear in the nightmare she'd given him in Wakanda. She held herself back from prying further, but she could make an educated guess. A lost love. A regret. A face from his past.

"I didn't hear you Wanda" he said, slightly flustered as he closed the sketchbook. Slowly she took a seat beside him on the steps, glancing out at the scenery for a moment. The grass was still marked by Thor's exit, the earth scorched by the the magic at his disposal.

"I just came to see you. You spend a lot of time alone" she said, shrugging slightly. He may be their leader, but he found these moments of privacy. Possibly he didn't want the company, but she hadn't had a real chance to talk to him since they arrived, and so she had supposed now was as good a time as any. "You are so often with Natasha, or planning. We...hadn't had a chance to talk".

Not since Korea, not since the return. There had been so much to do, but now they were mostly training and there was time to take a breath. To explain a little. To make sure he understood.

Of course, there were ways she could have made him understand in an instant, but Wanda wasn't going to do that with the Avengers.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, tucking the sketchbook under his legs, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward slightly, his face attentive as it turned to her. She wasn't reaching for his feelings but they spilled out - his sense of responsibility, his sense of duty, the fact he would always talk to his team when they needed it because that was the role he had set himself. It made her heart ache a little, with pity. So far, the Captain was her favourite member of their team - their new friends, their new family. Pietro was fond of Sam, he was enjoying somebody he could banter with, and the two of them and Rhodey were developing a good, easy relationship, slightly competitive as well. Wanda watched and enjoyed seeing her brother make friends. Of course, she'd be lying if there wasn't a little pang of jealousy, that he found this so easy to make new friends, but as she never really feared he'd leave her it was only a fleeting pang not a genuine fear. But it did make her long for friends of her own. She figured she might start with Steve.

"I suppose...to thank you. To talk. I don't know. To reassure you...about myself and my brother". The last one being the most honest one.

"You don't need to reassure me. I wouldn't have brought you here to train if I didn't have faith in you" he said, his voice sincere and she couldn't help but smile just a little, it twitched at the corners of her mouth.

"You're very good at that" she told him quietly.

"At what?"

"At making people want to earn and deserve your trust in them" Wanda told him, keeping her eyes on the tree line rather than look at him. "Your speech, on the plane, as we went to Sokovia. Everyone would have walked through fire for you. Even those who prefer to pretend they don't care quite so much. It's quite a talent".

"I just say what I believe".

"Of course. That is what makes it so persuasive. You always believe it. You are a rare man Captain". She glanced at him finally and noticed the way he shifted slightly, as though concerned she might be flirting, and that had the smile twitching again.

"Is that why you and your brother are here? My speeches?"

"No" she told him, looking away again. It was odd to think she was about to open up to anyone who wasn't her twin. "We...allowed Strucker to experiment on us because we wanted to bring order to Sokovia. To our home. We wanted peace. We allied with Ultron because we never believe that Stark could bring peace...that...it was not a good idea, we know, but it was about trying to bring peace as much as it was about vengeance. And now, we joined...the Avengers for the same reason. Peace".

There was a beat of silence, while he watched her and Wanda wondered how to convince him. She supposed she should take a leaf out of his book - and go with the truth.

"We were ten years old when our parents were killed. They weren't soldiers, they weren't part of the war. We were all at home together, eating dinner, when the bomb fell on the building. Pietro and I...we rolled under the bed and we stayed there. There was a second bomb but it did not explode. We lay together, for two days, so still we hardly dared breathe, worried even our heartbeats so loud might set it off. We did not move for two days and we stared at the bomb, waiting to die. And emblazed on the side...'Stark'. Two days..." Her voice cracked, even now over a decade later, as she remembered. The fear, the constant adrenaline, it had been exhausting and unrelenting. Their muscles ached from trembling, they had left bruises on each other where they were clinging to one another for comfort. They had been hungry, and thirsty, their lips caked with dust from the building. She remembered the embarrassment when she could take it no longer and she had pissed herself, their bodies so close she soaked him as well as herself, and she lowered her head in shame, her cheeks bright red, as she recalled the embarrassment and his whispered assurance. It hadn't been the first time that happened of course. When they'd eventually been found, they stank of sweat and piss and their clothes had been plastered to their bodies with both.

It wasn't clear to her whether his silence was him respectfully waiting for her to keep talking, or whether he was just unsure what to say, but it was Wanda who continued again.

"Our whole life had been marked by war. We went to Strucker because we wanted to protect Sokovia. But...with hindsight it's all harder to justify, to explain".

"Vengeance is a dangerous path, Wanda". She glanced at him, couldn't help but raise one eyebrow.

"You've never wanted revenge? Never felt that level of rage, of hurt, of betrayal?" His turn to look away again and study the tree line.

"I have never acted on it" he responded after a moment, his voice slightly guarded. She didn't reply to that, the urge to probe his mind so hard to resist, like an itch she wanted to scratch and apparently he could feel that desire. "Are you trying to read my mind?"

"No". Steve looked at her, doubting and she shrugged, hurt but supposing she did deserve the suspicion. "You would know if I was - my eyes turn red, I am told. But I am trying not to do that. Sometimes you feel things - you and Natasha especially - and worry about things and think them so loudly I can't help but hear. But I am not looking. Even when I don't believe you". The Captain evidently chose to gloss over her teasing jab and focused on the earlier part of her statement.

"You're not trying but you still hear things?"

"I am not looking in your minds. You are the only person here who seems to trust us -"

"Vision does -"

"He's not a person, not in the same way. He does though, yes. But the others are more wary. Pietro and I want to stay, we want to make friends. That is why I am not looking. People don't like it. But when you worry sometimes - it's like me walking into a room where you are standing alone shouting and trying not to listen, I can't help it."

"Do you tell your brother?"

Another moment of silence and Wanda sighed before she responded.

"Sometimes".

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes" she repeated, defensive. "Pietro and I...we have no secrets. We share everything. We figure everything out together. He is the person I trust most".

"I'm just surprised it's only sometimes. I would have thought you shared everything. The two of you...are very close".

"We're twins. And we were orphaned together, went through Strucker's experiments together. Nobody else knows what it is like" she told him, doing her best to keep her voice casual, to not betray the desire, to not arouse suspicion about how the two spent their nights together.

"Well...you're lucky to have each other at least" he told her after a moment. "But I'm sure Nat would agree with me that we'd prefer you didn't share our...err...'loud thoughts' with him".

She didn't reply immediately. If she promised, she would have to keep it. Pietro might tell her to share anyway and lie in future, mostly because he'd hate the idea of her knowing things he didn't, of there being that divide between them. But Wanda knew if she broke a promise to the Captain...she might never earn his trust again. And it was not a promise she thought she could keep. She felt torn between the Avengers and her twin, and so her response was honest.

"I don't know if I can do that. If I can keep things from my brother".

For a moment the Captain looked at her, and she wondered if her answer had been wrong. But after a moment he nodded, and she saw that he might not be thrilled, but at least respected her honesty.

"It's not just you two against the world now. We're a team".

"We're working on being a team. They don't all trust us, and we don't trust them. There's a long way to go".

"I'm working on it" he added, frowning slightly as he reflected on this.

"How did the Avengers come together to be a team last time?" Her questioned was serious, but he chuckled.

"Saved New York from an invading alien army" he admitted, lifting his head and giving her a wry smile.

"Perhaps come up with another way".


	9. Walls

He didn't intend of utilising weapons - he didn't need to. His speed was his weapon, his body. It was unnecessary. Couple that with his parent's death which still stung after all this time - he wasn't planning on having a gun.

But he was intrigued by the technology. Everything about the Avengers was so sleek and high performance. Glossy and shiny, a world of aluminium and chrome. Their childhood had been nothing like this - it was like they'd been born in a different age, a different world, not just a different country. Even when they'd been with Strucker, the experiments, they hadn't been like this. That had been underground, dark, dripping pipes and stone walls. Despite the fact the Sceptre granted great power, the operation had felt dingy, desperate at times. It had been all about results. The Avengers was Stark's baby, so of course, it was as much about style as performance.

He was intrigued. Just because he hadn't had gadgets as a child, didn't mean he hadn't envied those with them, lusted over them, wondering about them. A bay with an aircraft and a host of weapons and other unique apparatus.

That was what drew him down there - specifically, right now, the suit Sam wore. On the ground Pietro could beat them all - but he could not fly.

"Jealous of the toys?"

The voice surprised him, he jumped slightly as he turned around - and found himself faced with the red head. He and Wanda were very much of the opinion that Natasha was the most dangerous, to them. To their secret. He tilted his head, half turned from her, his body language on edge. He should have brought his sister. His twin would have known what the Agent was thinking. A valuable skill with a woman who rarely spoke her mind.

"Just interested" he told her, folding his arms as he shifted away from the EXO-7 Falcon.

"You and most everyone else. Stark improved this, from military designs. Like so many things here - it's a one off" she told him, her hips swaying as she walked over and leaned against the table, glancing down at the suit before up at him again.

"You want to fly?"

"Doesn't everyone?" he said, shrugging as though it were of no consequence.

"I could train you for the jet. With Stark and Clint gone - we're low on pilots". The teasing smile was gone now, her tone was serious as she looked up at him. "I could use a co-pilot".

His interest sparked at that and he turned, looking toward the jet - it dominated the far side of the hanger, with a silhouette straight out of a cartoon. Being able to pilot that...well, it did appeal. For a moment he just considered the idea, and then he looked back at Natasha. The slowest to trust and now willing to hand over the controls to him? He wondered what that said. Whether it meant she was accepting him and his sister now. Or whether it was purely practical. If the others didn't - or couldn't - fly, that could be an issue. A backup pilot was a necessity really. Why not him? He'd certainly not be encumbered by an outfit that would make him hard for him to manage the controls.

"Sounds good" he told her after a moment, his stance relaxing very slightly.

"I could teach you how to use the guns as well" she said after a moment, inclining her head toward the rack of weapons but at that Pietro shook his head.

"I am good".

There was a moment of silence, Natasha scrutinised him till his posture grew defensive again, at which point she looked down.

"You know...there's no shame in accepting Stark's inventions. You might not agree with his past. But everything he has designed lately...it's done to help. You can use his resources to help without being a hypocrite".

She definitely saw too much.

"I do not need to - I can fight as I am".

"I know that much. But don't weaken yourself by refusing something which might help".

Silence again.

"I know he has asked the Cap for some ideas for you and Wanda - for outfits. Shoes that won't wear out. Lightweight armor. Stark will help you".

"He has helped us enough".

Gone.

The advantage of super speed is you can run from any conversation you don't want to have.


	10. Disagreements

"What does she know? Tony Stark - she doesn't know, she acts like she sees everything! Like she's the genius here, and like she has any right to be telling us - she has no idea what it was like for us, no idea, and she tells me to forgive and forget!"

Wanda was listening to her twin, truly. But she was also sat cross legged in the centre of the room, red tendrils curling out from her in every direction, wrapped around every item in the room and holding it up against the ceiling as Pietro paced around the room - he hadn't yet worked out how to speak and sprint and so he strode, but his pace still spoke of somebody angry at this moment and she kept the gym equipment - for he had caught her training - out of his way, half predicting his movements to lift the furniture higher in keeping with the path he followed, and leave him free to vent.

She didn't really need to listen. She could read her twin like a book, he wasn't speaking to share, Pietro knew Wanda knew this all. The torrent of words was how he got the emotion out. And she knew he needed to do exactly that, that if Pietro bottled up his emotions he was liable to explode.

So she sat and waited. A sounding board.

"I ran, she sees too much but she doesn't see everything, and I knew I'd have lost it with her, I couldn't trust myself to speak further. It's not as though it were some argument, some small thing, Stark - killed our parents. And created Ultron, everyone glosses over that, everyone acts like the fact he meant well makes it all just fine. It does not cancel out. You can have the best intentions in the world and still be wrong".

"Pietro" she broke in finally, her voice gentle, and one hand lowered, placing half a dozen objects back on the floor and the tendrils faded like smoke as she held her hand out to him. After a moment he walked over and took the hand she had offered.

"They could say the same thing about us" Wanda began and he scowled, the anger that had been fading to frustration flaring up again.

"You compare us to him?"

"He created Ultron but we joined him-"

"To stop Stark, to stop the Avengers"

"And now we have joined them, we can hardly act as though they are all bad when we are here, we joined for a reason remember?"

"To stop Ultron, to save Sokovia, to fix Stark's mistake-"

"Our mistake too-"

"You've forgiven him. Have you forgotten? Forgotten those two days? Our parents?"

"Never! I have not forgotten, and I do not know if I can forgive. But I can look to the future".

She had risen to her feet with the argument, dropped the furniture she held, the clatter of it hitting the floor going unnoticed by them both. It was rare for the twins to argue at all, and to be fighting like this, facing each other, both voices breaking with emotion as they stood on opposite sides of the discussion, only their fingers holding them together.

"A future where you count Stark as a friend?"

"No! A future where we stop this happening to other children-"

"But using Stark's toys?"

"Are his inventions worse than Strucker's experiments?"

"Strucker wasn't really behind those"

"He controlled them-"

"It was the sceptre!"

"We didn't know that!"

"Stark's money is dirty, this is money he made from weapons and bombs, just like the one that killed our parents, that destroyed our home! He profited from our grief and now he uses this wealth to buy fancy toys and act as though it's done out of good!"

"Does his motivation matter if it does do good?"

"It matters to me"

"Since when do you care what people think? Since when is motivation and intent more important to you then action? Pietro...I know you hate him. I know, brother. But our hate helped nobody! If cooperation does more good, isn't it better? Isn't it...time we moved forward? Wouldn't our parents want us to aim for good?"

"By working with their murderer and accepting his gifts?"

"I'm tired of being angry Pietro! I'm tired of hating him! He isn't here, we don't have to be in his team. And I don't see that letting a man who made mistakes but wants to avenge them fund this mission is a terrible thing!"

"What's going on here?"

Their raised voices, growing louder with each statement, had attracted attention - the fight had been in their native tongue, so it was unlikely the content had been followed, but Steve had showed up at the door to the training room, Sam at his shoulder, and the twins fell silent.

"Well?" The Captain questioned them again, his tone that of a stern parent catching his children squabbling. If he had hoped that it would shame them into explaining though he was wrong, Wanda half turned, her arms folding in an automatic defensive gesture. Pietro ran both hands through his hair, aggravation showing in the tense set of his shoulder and the tightness of his jaw and mouth, but neither spoke. The argument was their own. It was one thing to disagree between themselves, quite another to reveal it to outsiders. The twins closed ranks immediately, and Steve recognised the signs and signed.

"I thought you two were the ones I could rely on not to descend into in fighting".

"Because you know us just so well" she shot at him, storming past him and a stunned Sam as she headed to her room, leaving Pietro shaking his head, lifting both hands and dropping them back down in a gesture of defeat and exasperation.


	11. Girl Talk

"So...the Captain tells me you and Pietro were fighting..."

"And you thought I'd want to discuss this with you?" Wanda turned to Natasha, folding her arms, her posture tense and on guard and clearly not somebody about to open their heart for an in depth discussion. "Did he send you because you are the only other girl?"

"I think so" the redhead admitted, unconcerned as she shrugged and crossed the room. "That and I don't think he knew how to speak to you about this"

"But you do?" Wanda was clearly sceptical, and for once the Captain was not doing well in her books. She had a great deal of admiration and empathy for Steve, but if his conflict solving idea was to rely on girl talk to fix it...well, that was not his best plan to date.

"I don't think any of us really know what it's like for you and your brother. There's clearly a very special bond between you two". Words no doubt intended to show understanding, but had Wanda been a cat, her fur would have been on end at that comment which only made her worry Natasha suspected the truth.

"So if you don't know what it's like, why did you come find me?"

"Because we are a team. It's not just the two of you, your arguments affect-"

"Stop speaking the Captain's words".

Natasha halted, wrongfooted for a moment, staring at Wanda.

"I thought you weren't reading our minds".

"That time I didn't need to. I could hear Steve in the Speech. He told you the reason it matters that this blows over, and you're reciting it. What's your reason, hmm? You are so good with words and persuasion normally, no? You tricked the Silver Tongued God after all. Why are you here Natalia Romanoff?"

The air crackled with tension, the peacekeeping mission seeming doomed to descend into the second shouting match of the day.

"I wasn't aware you knew I'd spoken with Loki".

"I saw plenty in your mind in Wakanda". She knew she shouldn't have said that even after the words left her. Natasha was guarded and would not welcome knowing her defences had been breached. Wanda had seen far more in their minds then she knew. Entering somebody else's mind was like a library of photos and memories. She'd hurtled through to find the ones that would cause pain, to create hallucinations to stop them in their tracks - but she saw plenty of other things on the way, snapshots really, but she could gather the context from the person's thoughts very quickly. So quickly she had to stop afterward and figure out everything she had seen, it wasn't all clear to her immediately, it was too much for Wanda to process consciously, she had to sort the pieces out later. She had seen Loki, the memory was tied to Natasha's friendship with Clint, something that had been one option to draw on - but Wanda had dug further back. She still knew though - reverse interrogation, the Black Widow's skill.

Natasha was dangerous precisely because of this sort of intelligence - intuition. Stark and Banner might have been the geniuses when it came to science and technology, both Thor and Vision knew more about the galaxy - but Natasha and Clint knew how people ticked.

And Wanda knew she was not only being rude to the point of hurtful - but her emotions would betray her and help Natasha figure out far too much. She turned away and exhaled slowly, trying to relax the tension in her body.

"I am sorry" she admitted after a moment. "That was unnecessary".

Natasha shrugged as she turned away, any slip of emotion that had appeared in her eyes hidden now as she leaned against the wall and tried to gain control again. Before she could speak though Wanda broke in again.

"The lies were annoying me though".

"It wasn't a lie".

"I asked why you were here talking to me. Not why Steve sent you. We all know none of us are as noble as him". It was a weak attempt at a joke, and it didn't lighten the mood at all.

"Very well. I am here because Steve asked me to speak with you".

"There is really no need. Pietro and I are twins. We are brother and sister. We have fought before. It is never the end of the world. It will not last, it will not effect things. And I think we'd both prefer it to be left alone to deal with it".

"Well, that's the problem of being part of a team - part of a bigger family. Intervention. And Steve is not the sort of father to just ignore it and let it blow over". That comment did make Wanda smile very slightly, just a hint of amusement, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Why were you two fighting? I gather it wasn't in English".

"Over Stark. Specifically, your conversation with my brother about how he should allow Stark to use his wealth to help us".

"And you disagree with him on this? You're willing?"

"I am tired" Wanda specified. "Our anger has done us no good. I am tired of the grudge. It did not help anyone. The whole point of this" she gestured to her own head, meaning her abilities, her mutation, her power - whatever you wanted to call it "Was to help. I see no point in making that harder for us, even if it is Stark".

"You're not really OK with him" Natasha pointed out.

"No. Just as your Banner would never be OK with me" Wanda rejoined. "Some things cannot be truly forgiven. But you move on".

"He's not...So. Your brother disagrees?"

"Pietro has a temper".

"So we've seen" the comment murmured almost too quiet to be heard, her eyes widening slightly to emphasise the point. "What do you think then? Do we have Stark fly in, a big heart to heart, have the two get to the bottom of this? Would that help your brother?"

"You think I'm going to betray Pietro? Tell you how to manipulate him?"

"I'm not the enemy Wanda".

She rubbed her face, feeling stupid. The comment had jumped out. It felt like a betrayal to tell another person how to handle her brother. That was her job. But of course...they were all on the same side now.

"No Stark. I will speak to Pietro. It really does not require everyone else getting themselves involved".

"Alright. I'll tell Cap it's under control. And no calls to Stark to suggest a visit right now. And on him helping...?"

"If he has ideas, he should go ahead. I will talk my brother round".

"Gotcha". Natasha walked away and Wanda sighed, hoping she had been right. Pietro could be very stubborn. But if she couldn't convince him, she saw no reason any of the rest of them could.


	12. Different Perspective

Even he had to stop for breath eventually. Pietro ran out of steam in the middle of nowhere, thankfully, and came to a halt. Doubled over, hands on his knees, his lungs gasped for air. He felt slightly better though - lighter, emotionally. They say you can't run from your problems but he was certainly of the opinion that they mattered less when you had sprinted as far away from them as you could manage. Not to mention that you were usually alone by this point, so whoever was bothering you was long gone.

It was just weird for it to be Wanda.

He sat down with a sigh, rubbing his face. Part of him could see his sister's point, and he hated to argue with her - but it still felt wrong. How was he supposed to work with a man who killed their parents? Especially over something as petty as him being designed trainers that could cope with his speed? It felt so disrespectful to his parents that there was a bad taste in his mouth as he threw himself backwards, starfished on the grass as he tried to wrap his head around it.

He was not just trying to be awkward and arguing on principle. He did not believe he could be civil to Stark, and so he saw no reason to lie and claim that they would forgive, forget and be friends, when he knew it was a promise he'd break in seconds. Pietro often made rash decisions, even he knew that, but this didn't feel rash. His gut did not want to play nice with Tony Stark. Usually he relied on Wanda to think over things, to consider them and agonise and come to a more difficult but logical decision. This time though he didn't like his twin's decision.

And he was no longer alone.

That made him frown as he looked up, watching Vision slowly float down, the android watching him with his head tilted slightly to the side as though Pietro was a puzzle he was contemplating.

He knew some of the team - namely Sam - weren't keen on the Vision. Pietro supposed he could hardly have a problem with Vision though when he'd previously allied with Ulton - he wasn't a hypocrite. And Wanda had explained the moment with Thor's hammer to him, so he knew that the Vision could be trusted in a way that Ultron couldn't be. He thought the oddest thing was how very calm the android was. He'd never seen any sign of passion or emotion - Ultron had felt more human in a way, despite the megalomaniac tendencies, because he could be riled into anger. The Vision acted out of necessity, with no great love of the fight, and remained calm and polite at all times in a way Pietro found rather creepy. He certainly hadn't sought the android out for any conversations, and was uncertain why this was who they had sent after him.

"I believe Sam in intending to join us here, once he has 'suited up'" Vision explained without Pietro even saying a word. "The others were unable to keep up with you".

"Did it occur to anyone that was the point? That I wasn't looking to be followed?" he pointed out as he sat up, his knees bent and his forearms resting on his legs as he looked up at the android.

"I had suspected that was your intention. However Captain Rogers was quite insistent that you and your sister be spoken to. He is most concerned by your argument, and wants the situation resolved". Pietro shook his head slightly, looking away as a single chuckle escaped him.

"Of course he did" he muttered, the comment to himself but the Vision evidently heard and nodded slightly.

"Captain Rogers is trying to ensure this team runs smoothly. I understand I may not seem the best person to talk to in your eyes, but I am here to help or listen if you require it. It is...unusual for you to argue with your sister. I am happy to provide advice, if you wish. I also know Mr Stark quite well".

"Oh really?"

"Of course. I am not Jarvis, I am not the creation Mr Stark and Dr Banner intended, but I do have Jarvis' recollections and information within me. Mr Stark built Jarvis and interacted with the interface on a daily basis for several years. I am quite familiar with him".

"So you are here to tell me to forgive him as well?" Pietro's anger was betrayed in his voice, and the Vision cocked his head a way, the little gesture like an inquisitive bird actually serving to annoy Pietro more.

"I do feel it would be best, for yourself and the team".

"And Stark too I'm sure"

"Mr Stark has not yet forgiven himself for his past". That revelation came as enough of a shock to silence Pietro for a moment, he frowned up at the Vision. "Your parents died, I understand, from a bomb created by Stark Industries. Mr Stark had not paid sufficiently close attention to the day to day running of his corporation, the minutiae did not interest him. He allowed a man he trusted to handle these matters and expected that they would be dealt with in line with his own wishes. But they were not, and by the time Mr Stark realised that...he took steps to rectify the situation. But even everything he has done as 'Iron Man' does not change what happened before, and he has been unable to protect everyone, and therefore in his mind, unable to truly fix his mistakes in the past. He does try though, and has continued to try. I, personally, believe that to be an admirable trait".

Pietro remained silent through this story. He didn't forgive Tony, the story wasn't that powerful, told in Vision's calm thoughtful way, the same tone he used when describing the weather. But it did make him think, and feel for the man, a little. He knew what it was like to make a mistake and have to try and atone.

It was his sister's way to dwell on the past and weigh the future and consider the choices before making a decision. Pietro was not so introspective in that way. Not that he did not think, but he made up his mind quickly and went with his decisions and did not spend too much time on regrets about his own actions. He still thought about his family, of course, his parents every day, but he did so to remind himself of his reasons for what he was doing, he could not change the past but he could keep it to motivate him for the future.

For a long time this had served him well, he had always been sure of himself and moving forward. But so many of his decisions had not gone well, even if the end result was good. He did not want to become crippled by self doubt, but he considered the prospect that Stark was. That he felt the weight of his mistakes, and strived to do better now. That he was trying to do the right thing for the right reasons but nothing went according to his plan. That he might not be - or at least, was not still - the playboy who made millions and let his weapons be used indiscriminately.

He didn't like the idea. Not for selfless reasons, he wasn't worried about Stark suffering guilt and insecurity. But for his own. He liked black and white, and knowing what he was doing. He didn't like this feeling of hating Stark and pitying him at the same time, his emotions mixed and confused. Pietro was uncomfortable with the uncertainty and not sure where to go from here.

He needed Wanda. Getting to his feet he rolled his shoulders.

"I will speak with my sister". That was all the explanation the Vision received before Pietro disappeared in a blur.


	13. Reconciliation

They used their rooms interchangeably - and loosely alternated. They didn't want it to seem suspicious one set of sheets stayed pristine and neither room felt particularly personal. They didn't have any keepsakes, any tokens of their past to use to decorate - there was nothing left of their family home to salvage after the bomb, and it had never been high up their list of priorities to obtain new belongings. Both were still as they had been on the arrival. Bare simple rooms, sparse but clean, and Wanda had wandered between the two while waiting for Pietro wrong, pacing as though keeping her feet busy would help empty her mind. After some time though she had given up and thrown herself down on her own bed, staring at the white ceiling.

That was where Pietro found her, coming to a sudden halt - as sudden as he could manage from speed - by the door and checking her room first. He closed the door behind him as Wanda sat up and then pushed herself to her feet.

For a moment both were silent, just staring.

Pietro was the one who closed the gap between them, he did not bother with words, but reached her and kissed her instead, both hands lifting to cup her face as her own grabbed his shirt at the waist and they pressed close.

The kiss was harsh, teeth tugging at each other's lips, bruising and stealing breath from each other, and yet neither one wanted to full away and gasp for air. It wasn't anger though but passion, and fear that they had for a moment been pulled apart - the twins were so unused to arguments that the knowledge that had been angry with each other had left them shaken and they clung together as they sought reassurance that it didn't change things. They were still them.

Her fingers tugged at his shirt, pulling it up, her hand moving to rest flat against his stomach and his own hands slid into her hair, the tendrils wrapped around his fingers as he kissed her harder - and it was this aspect of the embrace that proved to be their undoing as he tried to move his hands after a moment and found them tangled in her wavy hair and trapped.

As they realised this, they both smile, the mirrored expression dissipating some of the tension between them. Wanda broke the kiss and lifted her hands to cover his and gently untangling him, their eyes on each other as they did so.

He kissed her temple and wrapped both arms around her shoulders, holding her for a moment before he sighed and let go, sitting on the bed and pulling her onto his lap. They did have to talk about it, Pietro knew, even if conversation was never his strongest point.

"Who did they send to talk to you?"

"Natasha" she told him, sat across his legs, one hand cupping the back of his neck.

"Not Steve? I would have thought the Captain would have come to you. Not her, not after what you did to her Doctor".

"I did snap at Steve as I left. And I think he thought a woman might talk to me better". She frowned, shaking her head very slightly.

"He sent the Vision to talk to me" Pietro said, knowing how unnecessary it was to reveal that part - Wanda would already know. "He told me...more about Stark. I cannot forgive him. But...he explained him. I don't like him. I won't promise to like him or play nice. But...I will work with him, if we have to. If it helps" Pietro said, although he did not sound completely certain even as he reassured Wanda of this. She could tell from his voice he didn't want to promise a thing, and wasn't sure how much of this he would be able to do, his word was not given with confidence and her heart ached for him knowing how difficult this must be for her brother. She was the one who lied, when it had to be done. The one who could deceive. Pietro was so honest, that to do something that went against his instincts, for her and for the rest of the team - the others wouldn't get just how difficult this was for her.

"I just...the Vision says he regrets things, and made mistakes and feels responsible and guilty - as he should - and that he keeps trying to correct things. To atone. You knew he would go to extreme lengths because of fear, but I think as well...because of guilt. I can accept his help if he does it from guilt" he said, shrugging. She could feel, through his neck, the tension in his muscles still and knew how uncomfortable he was with this compromise even as he made it.

To soothe him her fingers slid up into his hair, her other hand moving to his chin and turning his face toward her so she could lean in and kiss him again. This kiss had been intended to be gentle, brief, but Pietro's arms moved around her waist and pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. But only for a minute before he pulled away to whisper against her lips -

"Where's everyone else?"

Wanda closed her eyes to focus - something Pietro made more difficult but sliding one hand onto her legs, fingers slipping between her thighs as he watched her concentrate - and spread her mind throughout the building. She didn't want to investigate anyone's thoughts, just locate them...

Opening her eyes she kissed him softly. "Nowhere near us" Wanda murmured, and saw Pietro smile at the response.


	14. Quickly - NSFW

Her assurance was all it took for Pietro to pull her back down, one hand running up her back and sliding into her hair as he pulled her back in for a kiss, the other between her thighs and sliding higher.

It had occurred to him on occasion - and no doubt, to her and other members of the team - that the skirts Wanda favoured for her outfits were not especially practical in combat. But at moments like this, Pietro could definitely see the advantage, there were no buttons or buckles for him to fumble with - his fingers slid higher and he could reach her with ease, his fingers brushing along the outside of her underwear and he felt as much as heard her gasp softly into his mouth at the touch.

"Quiet" he warned her teasingly and she smiled slightly, nodding in agreement as his fingers began to stroke her through the fabric of her underwear.

"Quickly" she added. "They - oh! - they might come looking...to see if we have made up" Wanda told him, her voice catching slightly. They say practice makes perfect - the two had fit in plenty of practice lately, and knew each others bodies well.

"Well, they would definitely see that the argument is forgotten" Pietro pointed out, the smug smile he wore not even disappearing as he spoke, a task he was finder easier than Wanda at the moment.

"They would find out far more then that" she gasped, her fingernails digging into his shoulders now.

"Alright then. Quickly" he agreed, his fingers speeding up and she moaned softly, dropping her head forward to try and muffle the noise as she buried her face in his hair. He heard it still, but he didn't need that as a cue - he could feel how wet she was beneath his fingers. "Take these off for me" he murmured.

Wanda stood up slowly, her hands automatically lifting as though to comply - and then a slow wicked smile crossed her face. Her fingers trailed along the fabric of her skirt, catching slightly, the fabric dragging upward but slipping after a moment. Instead her hands moved higher, grabbing the front of her cardigan and shrugging that off instead, dropping her arms so it slid down over her hands and hit the floor. Her fingers returned to rest on her thighs, teasing him against as they slid upwards, letting her dress hike up a little -

Pietro was evidently not in a teasing mood. All she saw was the blur, and then her underwear was around her ankles and her twin was on his knees before her, flashing her that smug smile that was insufferable, and at the same time, so dear to her.

"Impatient as ever" she pointed out, chuckling slightly, even as he ducked his head beneath her dress. She felt his warm breath on her thighs as he responded -

"You did say to be quick"

\- and then his tongue was sliding along her and she moaned, one hand lifting to cover her own mouth, the other sliding along her stomach, before yanking up her dress so her fingers could slide into his curls. Biting on her own skin she tried to keep quiet, a part of her mind marvelling at how long they had survived without this. That there was a time when after an argument they would separate till the anger faded, and reunite with just an awkward joke to clear the air. On the whole, she rather preferred this new method.

Pietro broke away from her, lifting himself back onto the bed, and pulling her back to straddle his lap again, her underwear discarded to the floor in the process.

"Stop thinking" he told her, moving to kiss her but she shook her head and stopped him so she could speak.

"How did you know?"

"Because you were being quiet". The smug smile again and then his lips on hers. Trying to kiss him and concentrate on another task, her fingers fumbled at his jeans, ignoring the rest of his clothes as she focused just on freeing his erection, Pietro lifting his hips slightly in understanding to shift his jeans down. Now was hardly the time to be shedding all their clothes, although if they were caught like this, the fact both were half dressed would hardly save them.

Neither one cared about that as the moment, Pietro sliding his hands up his sisters thighs onto her hips, his fingers gripping her as he guided her down onto his erection, and both moaned softly as he entered her. One of his hands shifting, fingers spanning her thigh as his thumb shifted to between her legs, pressing against her slow circles, clumsy from the angle but enough to have her gasping as she rocked her hips back and forth, pressing against him. Her fingernails dug hard into his shoulders, their foreheads together though both had their eyes shut, both of them alternating between gasping and biting their lip to muffle louder noises as they moved as one, the argument forgotten now in the heat of this moment.

It was she who came first, her lips pressed together and a strangled whimper the only sound that escaped her as her muscles went taut and she froze for a moment, every part of her straining as the wave of desire rippled through her body, before relaxing, half collapsing against him as she struggled for breath - but the shudder that went through her was what pushed him over the edge, and within a moment he was, like his sister, boneless, relaxed, heart pounding and chest heaving.

They stayed like that for a long moment, clinging together, before Wanda beginning to move and stood up on shaking legs.

"We...we should go talk to the others" she pointed out, reluctance clear in her tone even as they both understood the necessity.

Pietro shrugged, not arguing, but took her hand and pulled her down onto him, both arms around her as he lay back and kissed her temple.

"Five minutes" he murmured. She settled against his chest, their breathing in sync.

"This is the only time you're still" she said after a moment, and she felt the rumble of his chuckle.

"Don't tell the others. I don't want them all trying it when they want me to slow down".

 **AN:** This chapter has been delayed because writing smut does not come naturally to me. I therefore advise readers not to expect another NSFW for awhile.


	15. Sharing

They could have gone and spoken to Steve together. As a team, assured him the argument was in the past. But in truth - Wanda preferred not to be around the rest of her brother and then just one or two members of the Avengers. She feared that, with less to focus on, their behavior might more quickly be scrutinised, their secret figured out. in a group, she hoped nobody would notice if they were careful. Kept themselves a little apart, as separate as they could manage. With so many voices...it would pass unnoticed. She was not one hundred percent sure of the plan, but her cautious nature had her sticking to it, and so Wanda was alone as she sought out Steve, rapping her fingers in a fist against his desk to draw his attention and then perching on the edge.

He sat back. Folded his hands across his stomach. Even to her - an orphan for most of her life and unfamiliar with television shows - the pose screamed father figure and she felt for him. All this effort, trying to bring them together. Not that he'd have it another way. Steve didn't honestly want a world where he didn't have to be part of the Avengers, and wasn't their leader - he wouldn't truly have known how to cope.

"So. You've calmed down".

"Yes. And Pietro. We've made up. The argument is dealt with" For a moment she hesitated, taking a breath then rushing in. "You don't need to worry. Or send others in to talk to us. We don't often fight - but we are brother and sister. We can handle an argument without intervention". The Vision had helped, that she would admit. Natasha...not so much. Wanda was far too on her guard to open up to Romanov. But the point was that she didn't want Steve adding to his list of concerns by having to try and send others in, when the twins could handle this themselves.

He seemed to have misunderstood her comment though, frowning slightly.

"Wanda...I keep telling you this. We're on the same side". Standing up she began to pace, swinging her arms slightly as she walked.

"That isn't why I said it. I know that. I'm not saying that. But...you are closer than Natasha to some members, no? You'd go to Sam or her before, say, Rhodey? She in turn, she's close to Clint. Rhodey knowns Tony better. There are not...divisions. But some friendships are closer. Pietro and I are the same. And some things we can be trusted to handle".

The comparison did at least seem to have things make sense to him and he nodded slightly.

"What was the argument about? Natasha mentioned you two...disagreeing over whether you can work with Tony".

"More or less. What I see as co-operation Pietro views more as collaboration" Wanda said, returning to perch on the edge of Steve's desk again. "He will try though. He cannot promise things will be fine - my brother is still angry".

"But you're not?"

"I did not say that. But Pietro and I...are not exactly the same. We are still two different people. Anger is Pietro's way. He prefers to act than think. And action is better fuelled by that kind of emotion. He has...nurtured it, it has been what kept us going these past two years. Helped him to survive...what Strucker did to us. For him to put that aside and change...it cannot be done overnight. But he wants to try so...if Stark is willing...something will work out, I'm sure".

"And you?"

"Me?"

"You're very good at seeing other people. Defending your brother, explaining him so we accept him. I'd like to know what you think as well. We brought you both into the Avengers, and not just so you could act as facilitator for Pietro".

Wanda looked out the window for a long moment. Normally she only truly opened up to Pietro. When Natasha had been sent at Steve's request she had deliberately not shared, her walls had gone up. But as Steve kept saying...they were on the same side now. She didn't just have to play peace maker to help people understand the twin she knew so well. But, in some ways, it was easier to talk about Pietro and defend him and argue his case, then it was to be honest about the contents of her own mind. In that case the purpose of her words was to help Pietro, and Wanda would have done far more difficult things to ease her brother's way in life. But to reveal her own heart...that was harder. For her, anyway.

"I didn't send Nat to talk to you just because you're both girls" he said, interrupting her thoughts. "It's because you're both so alike...although, perhaps too alike for you to open up to her." In response to her questioning look he continued, "You both see so much - you can't help it, whereas Nat works at it, but you both know what other people are thinking. Can figure out so well how they work. But neither of you put that skill to use to make friends - you both hold back and put your guard up, watching from a distance. I guessed I hoped having that common would help you two bond - but I did worry, and was apparently right to do so, that you're both so reserved you couldn't find a way to talk".

Wanda looked away from him again, considering his words. He was definitely right about Nat. He was probably right about her.

"Is that bad?"

"It can be. I'm not saying you have to share everything. Everyone here has secrets. Fears. History that drives them to do better. But if you can't reach out to us...I think ultimately, yes, that will be a bad thing".

There was a longer silence now. Steve kept watching her, and she could feel that he was hoping she would use this opportunity to open up a little more. To respond to his fears by showing she didn't need her reserve. And Wanda knew that she didn't want to disappoint him. This was how he worked as their leader. They all wanted to live up to his faith.

"The problem I think of having a twin...is you find you don't really need other people. There is always somebody to talk to. To rely on. Somebody you can trust above all things. We had each other...and we also had nothing else. If either of us had survived alone...of course we'd have to have made friends. Reached out. Nobody can survive entirely alone. But there are two of us. Everyone else is outside our unit. So we don't need to share with other people, don't really need friends. Opening up to other people...is harder therefore. You keep saying it's not just us anymore...but it has been just us for so long. It's difficult".

"Tell me something happy".

"...Happy?"

"Maybe it's hard because it feels like you're trying to tell your secrets. I don't need all your secrets - I don't know the others. So maybe try sharing something...easier. As a starting point".

Wanda watched the sky and wondered about happy things. When she thought about 'good times' she only ever pictured when her parents were alive, even though realistically she knew if she took the time to consider, there would be happy moments since then too. It hadn't been constant doom and gloom every moment of every day for the last decade after all. But still...the story she told predated the bomb.

"As kids. Pietro and I wanted a dog more than anything in the world. For our ninth birthday our mother took us to an old man whose dog had just had a litter...and she said we could choose one. One of them was much smaller than it's siblings, and I asked the old man why. He told me that the little one was the runt - and had been born last, and was smaller and weaker than the others. I had spent - well, my life since I could remember, since we could talk, having Pietro remind me I am twelve minutes younger than him. And I felt so bad for the youngest in the group that I demanded we take the little one home with us. My mother allowed it. My brother...spent several months when, if he wanted to tease me, he would call me the runt of our litter".

Steve smiled, just as she did, both their expressions nostalgic.

"You didn't have siblings?" Wanda said, the statement phrased as a question even though she knew the answer.

"No, I was an only child. But I never needed them - I had Bucky. He was like a brother to me. My neighbour, my best friend. We did everything together growing up...he liked to insinuate I was a runt as well".


	16. Dinner

**OOC: Apologies, I note from the reviews people thought this had been abandoned. I do sometimes disappear for months. I have serious health problems and I have to prioritise my activities. My health will always come before my writing, as it has to and should do. But those of you who kindly remained interested get two chapters in two days.**

* * *

"What...are you guys cooking?" Rhodey questioned, walking into the compound's living area, the expression on his face suggesting he wasn't entirely sure whether the smell that had filled the room was pleasant or not - certainly it was strongly spiced from the flavourings.

"Moussaka. Goulash stew. And -"

"Paprikash" Natasha cut in as she walked in and got a strong whiff as Wanda lifted the lid with a flourish. "Should I ask the occasion?"

Wanda glanced at her twin, but he didn't respond, too focused with the process of cooking. People might have expected she'd be the one preparing the dinner, but in truth the goings on of a kitchen did not much interest her. Whereas her brother adored food - and always had. He'd been the one who learned at their mother's elbow, she had been far more likely to be curled up with a book at the table. There hadn't been much time for cooking at the orphanage - but once they were out. Once they were 'independent', Pietro cooking dinner was a good way for them to repay friends who allowed the twins to sleep on their sofa. He'd continued to learn and improve his skills - and Wanda was his guinea pig as he tried to remember and figured out the dishes their mother had cooked when they were children. These days it was the only time he slowed down, showed patience.

"Well...we thought we'd cook - Pietro would cook, at least - something for everyone" she said. It had been her talk with Steve that had been her idea. That maybe they needed to bond, but bonding didn't have to mean tearing themselves open. They could try bonding as friends.

"Did we even have this much paprika in the house?" Natasha asked curiously, leaning over the stove.

"We sent Rogers to the supermarket. Any deficiencies in the cooking I blame on his struggle with the list" Pietro told her quickly, his curls tighter than ever in the increasing level of steam present in the kitchen.

"I'm sure Stark would have given you pocket money if you wanted to buy dinner" Rhodey pointed out, drawing closer with curiosity.

"Well, we wanted him to buy _slivovitz_ \- plum brandy. And neither of us is old enough to buy alcohol in the States" Wanda pointed out with a tight smile that didn't quite reveal everything. The twins were twenty - several months off being able to buy liquor here in America. But there were of course other issues. Such as neither of them owned any government issued ID - they didn't have anything from Sokovia to prove their ages either and as they were illegally present here it didn't seem like the United States would be rectifying that. Better that they didn't venture out too often either. Their entire existence here was somewhat controversial after all. Steve assured them they wouldn't be deported...but Pietro and Wanda thought it best to keep their heads down.

And everyone knew it. There was a beat of silence after her excuse, as everyone considered the truth, and then moved along.

"What's special about plum brandy?" Rhodey asked.

"It's traditional in Sokovia. The food is from our childhood, plum brandy is what our parents would have when celebrating".

"Not just Sokovia. Eastern Europe. Hawkeye will be jealous when I tell him you had the Cap score us some. It's how he celebrated after Budapest"

"Are you ever going to tell us what happened in Budapest?" Steve asked, strolling in, Sam behind him. "It didn't leak with the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets"

"It was a personal mission. Where'd you put the liquor?" Natasha asked, moving toward the cupboard Steve nodded at. The redhead went to look, pulling out a bottle, and pursing her lips, head bobbing slightly from side to side.

"Not bad. Not great. Next time - I'll do your shopping".

"You say next time - you should try Pietro's cooking once first" Wanda said, teasing as Pietro began switching off the oven.

"One experimental mistake and you never let me live it down" he scoffed, glancing at her quickly, and Wanda hoped nobody was watching closely enough to see that the look he gave was not just teasing and mischievous - the glint in his eye spoke of other things. But then...nobody here would have seen that twinkle before, so maybe to them it was nothing.

"Where is Vision?" Wanda asked, watching as Pietro, becoming a blur, began to transfer the contents of the saucepans into serving dishes.

"He can't eat can he?" Her brother asked, and she shot him a look. That super speed was a disadvantage when he spoke before he thought.

"He may still wish to join us though" she pointed out and he nodded at that, glancing to her then around the room.

"You dish up. I'll find him". He was out the room in a blur leaving her to take over the serving up, but Natasha appeared at her side, seamlessly assisting her until Pietro shot back into the room - Vision stepping through a wall a moment later.

"Doors, Vision" Steve reminded.

"This way was quicker. And as you were all here and requested my presence, I was not interrupting" he explained, watching the group gathering plates, cutlery, and steaming hot Sokovian cuisine to deliver them to table.

"People generally prefer it when you act in the expected manner" Natasha explained, and the android considered this advice, nodding, before accompanying them to table.


	17. Slivovitz

"You listened".

"I always do" Wanda told Steve simply as she handled loaded the dishwasher - having extracted promises that, as the twins had handled all the evening's food and clear up, Rhodey would serve up jerk chicken enchiladas to his family's recipe very soon with Sam to act as his assistant. It seemed her idea may be on the way to becoming an Avengers tradition.

"Bonding. Friendship. I'm impressed - with the both of you". It was no doubt intended to be praise but it was rather too patronising for her liking and she wrinkled her nose, shrugging it off. What she hadn't realised was how closely Pietro was watching, as he shot her side a moment later.

"OK?" he checked, glancing between them.

"OK" she said, closing the dishwasher, flashing Pietro a smile.

He watched her face. This dinner had been her idea, although he had gone along with it. Personally he held more hopes for the alcohol then then the food aspect of the evening - not that it was likely to affect him. All the better to ensure he held a sober tongue. He could already slip up by speaking his mind without any additional help from other substances, after all. And there were things Pietro knew they shouldn't be told. Normally he was a fan of honesty...but not in this situation. Not when honesty would put his twin in danger.

He looked to the Captain. "We're going to open the _Slivovitz_ ". Steve offered a wry smile.

"It won't affect me. Nothing of this Earth does".

"Same story here - although I'm yet try something not of this world" he admitted, clear curiosity in his tone.

"I'll have Thor bring some again - when he's back" Steve amended. "But I will join you. I've never tried _Slivovitz_ " he admitted, as they approached the group on the sofa. Wanda and Pietro smiled slightly as he butchered the pronunciation - and noted Natasha shared their amusement.

"It's an acquired taste" Natasha warned them all as she began pouring out the liquid into small cups. Wanda knelt by the table, Pietro taking a seat on the couch behind her, his feet either side of her - as close as the two could dare to be in public.

"I've found anytime somebody says 'acquired taste' what they mean is it's foul" Rhodey said, looking sceptical now as Natasha slid a cup toward him. Sam elected to save his opinion till after trying it - but the look on his face said it all.

"You said it was brandy - this stuff taste like jet fuel!" he responded to, and the other members of the group more familiar with the beverage laughed. Steve reached forward - but his response was hardly more positive. He looked rather taken aback, blinking several times as he looked away. Wanda herself picked up one cup, passing it backwards to Pietro, before taking one for herself.

His metabolism meant that drunk was no longer an option for Pietro. Had he known he might have taken more opportunities to indulge before they volunteered themselves to Strucker. 'Partying' hadn't really been on their radar - but there had been evenings after planning rallies, sat around with friends sharing a few bottles of spirits, talking with loose tongues, laughing. It seemed something similar was the plan tonight. He supposed it would help build friendships - and was still glad Stark was not here, that was a bond beyond his capabilities still - and so he stayed. It was nice to know though that he wouldn't be the only sober member of the team.

Still, even knowing it wouldn't get him drunk - and that's a goal that kept many people sipping vile tasting liqueurs with no regard for the flavour - Pietro still took a swallow from the cup. Personally he didn't mind the taste. It was strong, he'd admit that, the mix of sweet plums and sharp alcohol could come as a shock, but to him it was a taste of home. A taste of his mother's Christmas fruit cake, of mulled cider and wine in the cold months of the year, a taste of nights relaxed with Wanda and friends. a taste of who he was, and where he came from. The heritage outweighed the flavour in his mind.

Patriotism, after all, wasn't exclusive to the Americas. They may have left their home country but being Sokovian was so much of the twins. They had given themselves to try and save their country. This was a reminder of what they had wanted to fight for. With the cup of _Slivovitz_ in his hand and Wanda at his feet...Pietro felt they hadn't done too badly.

Watching as, despite their initial exclamations over the unpleasantness of the taste, Sam and Rhodey continued to sip the Vision tipped his head to the side, puzzled it seemed, before speaking. "I am reminded of the occasions in my memory banks from my time as JARVIS. I could not, at that time, truly fathom why Mr Stark was so eager to drink alcohol, given the numerous negative effects it seems to have the following morning. If you find the _Slivovitz_ unpleasant, and are aware that you will suffer in the morning, would it not be logical to find a beverage more to your liking?"

"It's called manners Vision" Sam explained. "The twins have provided, and so we will drink and attempt to figure out why Sokovians like it".

"I see. But, if you are only drinking to be polite, is that not now negated by the fact you have voiced the dislike?"

"We did not expect them to like it" Pietro admitted.

"So...you purposefully provided a drink you imagined they would not enjoy, but that social convention would require them to drink, knowing that they would suffer the following morning having imbibed in an attempt to improve your friendship? The more time I spent with humans, the odder I find your motivations". The group were laughing now, although not unkindly, used to the Vision's comments and observations.

"When you phrase it like that it does sound bad" Pietro said with a grin.

"What would you suggest as a bonding exercise instead?" Wanda asked, taking another sip of brandy, the liquid warmth spreading from her throat to her stomach and her limbs, relaxing slightly as she leaned back against Pietro's legs.

"Is sober conversation not an option?"

It was a good thing the android made this announcement whilst everyone was still early into their first glass or the sniggers that followed would have been outright laughter. During their giggles though the Vision appeared to consider further.

"Perhaps bowling? Or paintball? I understand these are team building exercises that do not require alcohol".

"Now I know I've left the military - these team building exercises sound like something a Human Resources team would dream up to bring together their customer service operators and managers in the interest of greater cohesion" Rhodey said, rolling his eyes, his reference almost incomprehensible to the rest of the group and their limited experience with what constituted the real world for most people.

"How did you bond in the military? The close relationship soliders have to form within a unit is comparable to the Avengers, more so then, as you say, a group of civilians employed together" the Vision noted, and Rhodey lifted his glass.

"With alcohol".

"Cheers to that" Sam echoed.


	18. Intoxication

"Are you sorry that you cannot get drunk?" Wanda asked Pietro. Having finished between the group the two bottles of brandy her twin had to carry her back to her room - not a hardship for him. Carrying her suited him most of the time, but usually she was capable of walking even if not at his speed. Not so after a few glasses of plum brandy. He and Steve had joined in for a couple of glasses, but it had no effect - the curse and benefit of increased metabolism. The Vision had joined them for the conversation, but food and drink were off limits to him. Sam and Rhodey had both been soldiers at one time, even if in very different ways, and there is an element of drinking that goes with being in the military - work hard, play harder. Natasha's reasons for seeming so in control still they did not know, but it had been very evident that it was Wanda who was most affected.

Her words slurred, her inhibitions slipped, her hand-eye co-ordination was shot - and the only reason she wasn't covered in brandy, having dropped the glass in the end, was Pietro's fast reflexes. That was the point when the evening was brought to an end as he insisted it was time for his little sister to go to bed.

Luckily, he mostly found it amusing. She hadn't actually said anything she shouldn't, so they were safe, and to see his twin who was usually so in control - too in control of herself, almost, Wanda found it hard to relax and spent most of her life tense and worrying about things that were yet to happen - was just funny to Pietro. He was the one who spoke and acted without thinking. She, in contrast, tried to hold back a frown but her face was often tense as she weighed sentences, and their likely reactions, in her mind before speaking up. To see her joking and being herself was a nice change for the rest of them - and even for him, it was good to see her manage that level of relaxation and honesty with people other than himself.

"Well, not right now, no" he told her, the two speaking in their native tongue with nobody around. "If I were drunk as well you'd have no chance" he pointed out teasingly, depositing her on her bed where she collapsed backwards and then groaned softly, the bedsprings protesting her action as much as her stomach. If she was hoping for sympathy then she would have been disappointed, Pietro chuckled at her and began undoing her shoelaces, throwing her boots and socks into the corner a few moments later.

"C'mon, sit up" he said, pulling her upright enough he could continue to remove the rest of her outfit - something he'd done many times lately, but usually with other motivations in mind.

"Slow down. The speed is making it worse" Wanda whimpered and Pietro rolled his eyes slightly before continuing at a more human pace. Once she was naked he crossed to the closet, figuring out night clothes for her, as she began to speak. Earlier she had been giggly, but now her voice was wistful and nostalgic.

"Do you remember Christmas, when we were eight, the year it snowed so much we had made a snow-family? And we were at Grandmama and Grandpapa's? When our parents drank so much Slivovitz, and the snow was so heavy, and they could not walk, and we were shovelling it aside so they had a path to crawl home?" Pietro smiled, he did remember. They had never seen their parents truly drunk before, and the journey home had taken too long as two adults relied on their children to clear a path they could manage on hands and knees, when they were too unsteady to manage their feet. He and Wanda had been so young they hadn't seen the situation as serious, at the time, they had been giggling almost as much as their parents, but they had all been frozen stiff when they returned home, and ill because they had not gotten warm quickly enough.

"I remember" he assured her, returning with a t-shirt and shorts. If he said that, seeing her naked and curled up on the bed, didn't have a little effect on him then he'd be lying - but mostly, his concern at this time was getting her clothed and asleep. He'd always been protective of Wanda, in truth it was nothing new as he lifted her arms and pulled the shirt over her head, carefully gathering up her long hair out the collar.

"I miss them". That halted him for a moment and then he nodded, crouching down and putting her legs into her shorts, at which point she finally began to help with the process and pulled them up, lying back down again as she stared up at him.

"I miss them too" he told her gently. The giggling ridiculous feeling of the evening was gone now as he peeled his own shirt over his head and shed his jeans. "C'mon Wanda. Under the covers". But she didn't comply - and not because she couldn't. Instead she sat up slowly, and reached for his hand.

"Do you ever think just...everything would be different. If they were alive. We wouldn't be like this. Maybe we wouldn't be alive...if the Avengers or Ultron...or maybe Sokovia would have been safer. And we'd be normal. And doing different things. And still home. And...with other people". Pietro did not really consider how different things would be that often, although it had occurred to him, mostly because it then stirred up mixed feelings within him - and Pietro's response to cognitive dissonance was to think about something else. It was a strange feeling to of course be sad that your parents had died...but to know that, ultimately, whilst it had been difficult for a long time afterwards, your life at this moment was better for it having happened.

Being orphaned and growing up in institutions had been unpleasant - although in a country as torn as Sokovia, not unusual - they had been drifters, without a home, without money, and the experiment they had volunteered for had been as painful as any torture he could imagine.

But if their parents had been alive? Pietro and Wanda would still be in Novi Grad, likely working basic jobs - money for education was unlikely to have materialised - and struggling to make ends meet. They'd have been dating other people, still involved in the protests though he assumed, but then who knows? Instead they were in America, living in luxury even if they owned almost nothing, they were part of a force that could change the world for the good, they had new friends, new abilities, and they had one another.

It was hard for Pietro to want the other life they'd have had, knowing this one.

"I know. Everything would be different. Maybe...this was meant to be. But I still miss them too" he told her, lifting her up so he could pull back the sheets beneath her and put her into the bed, where he crawled in behind her, his arms locking around her waist but Wanda moved immediately, turning so she could roll and face him.

"Do you think they're angry at us? For being like this?" she whispered, her voice sounding fearful and her eyes wide. Pietro pulled her close, one hand smoothing her hair, kissing her forehead before he responded vehemently.

"No. I'm sure...like you said. If they were alive, it would be different. I am sure wherever they are they understand that, given that what we have been through this last ten years...that there is nobody for us but each other". Whether it was the truth or not did not matter in part. Pietro believed what he had to believe. He made his mind up on this matter, that nobody would make him feel shame for the love he felt for his sister, and he would not contemplate otherwise. But he knew that Wanda was not like him, she was always plagued by doubts, and that this must have been bothering her for some time - and would continue to do so. Pulling back he lifted one hand to her chin, tilting her face up to his.

"We're made for each other. Made the same. I don't care if nobody else ever understands that. I know it's the truth. We are meant to be together" he told him firmly, his mouth covering hers to silence any attempt she might make to argue with this logic.


	19. Training

Steve had said she had to work on her stamina - and Natasha had been appointed the one in charge of helping. Wanda had privately wondered whether it was another attempt to induce girly bonding but she did acknowledge it made the most sense. How were Steve or Pietro meant to train her after all - they were so enhanced she'd never keep up. And Sam and Rhodey were strong, but they wore suits. Whereas she needed to be nimble and agile. Natasha was the obvious choice.

And whilst the traditional girly bonding would not have worked - painting their nails and doing each others hair - getting hot and sweaty had worked. There hadn't actually been much time for conversation during the workout but somehow she did feel closer. Maybe it's harder to keep your guard up when you're panting for breath.

Sat on the floor, feeling extremely undignified, Natasha walked over with a bottle of water and she flashed a grateful smile as she opened it and took a swig. Only after that did she feel quite capable of speech.

"How'd I do?"

"We'll keep working on it. I know it's a rough workout - but you have to be prepared. And Steve is right that you'll need the stamina". Wanda nodded, accepting the criticism as what it was - a constructive attempt to help. "How are you finding the training otherwise?"

"Am I not doing well?" So perhaps she wasn't quite so good at receiving feedback as she thought.

"No - you're doing well. It's more the scared 'deer in the headlights' look you still get that I'm concerned about. You're possibly the most powerful member of the team - you or Vision, at any rate, I think, there's so much potential still - yet you never seem comfortable, or sure of yourself. Not like your brother. But you got your powers at the same time".

"Pietro was quick to master his. Mine..."

"Are more complex". Wanda wouldn't have said it that way, but Natasha was right. Pietro was powerful - with Steve teaching him to fight hand and hand, his lightning reactions and the speed he could build up in a punch, he was a dangerous weapon. But it related to the body, it was relatively simple to develop. Whereas Wanda had unlocked parts of her brain- a CT scan showed her mind lit up like a Christmas tree every time her eyes glowed - that she hadn't even been able to access before, and had to learn how to use those connections, to figure out how she did something at first before she could hone it.

"But I don't think it's just that" Natasha continued. "You seem...more insecure then Pietro. I'm not saying that's bad. But in a firefight...you need to know you can manage it. Sometimes it's as much about confidence as ability".

"Were you never...lacking in confidence?" Wanda asked, curious. There was a beat of silence, Natasha stared at the wall and Wanda stared at her.

"In my training doubt was not a luxury I was afforded. It was punished as much as failure. So...not in many years. I was trained rigorously until I knew exactly what I was capable of, and never allowed to see myself as less than a threat. I would have thought perhaps that Strucker had similar methods".

Wanda scoffed at the mention of the man.

"Strucker thought us tools, but insisted we were not ready and kept us on the sidelines. We were just science experiments to him. Maybe if he'd been more like your mentor it would have been different". She had no love for the man. He had wanted to use the twins - but instead they had used him, taken his 'gift' and made it work for their own purposes.

Natasha took a long moment before she responded, and Wanda, though not trying, could catch the train of her thoughts. That she wouldn't wish her mentor or training on anyone, regardless of how useful or successful it had ultimately been. But when she spoke it surprised Wanda, as the idea she voiced was different - perhaps one she had been considering for awhile.

"Banner was a little like you, in this respect. If the two have you had met under different circumstances...he had a so much power, that he hadn't really intended to gain, and hadn't anticipated in advance how much he would be capable of. So much power and he was wary of it because of the fact destruction would be so easy".

Wanda was silent in response, considering. She had never thought of herself as like Bruce - mostly because, knowing how much he hated her (and even she would admit he had every reason to) it hadn't occurred to her they might have things in common. Her gift was not like his - she had control. Or at least, she could not lose control. But, like him, even when trying to help there was a risk. She was an unknown quantity and still learning...there was a risk of hurting people, if she was not careful. And of course...she had hurt people. Her actions in Wakanda she now regretted. Maybe that was why she found it easier to accept Stark then Pietro. He had hurt people, of course, when they were working with Ultron. But nothing on the scale of what the Hulk had done after she toyed with his mind.

"I can do...a lot of damage, you are right. I have done a lot of damage. I have to be more...careful because of my capabilities. I have to be wary of what I can do. I have to choose the right side".

"You're with Steve now. I don't always agree with him, one hundred percent. But he is a good man. And his ideals are always right - morally. He will not take any shortcuts, and he does not believe that the ends justify the mean, he will take the hard path and do everything right rather than sacrifice innocents. So in that respect, I think with his guidance...you - we - are safe" Natasha said, the speech slowly delivered as she worked her feelings into words, her sentences guarded and carefully chosen to not reveal too much of her own feelings and opinions even after she offered honest reassurance. Wanda supposed the two of them did have more in common they they thought. She might not share Natasha's confidence in herself, or her lightning quick intelligence and sarcasm, but they both preferred not to reveal more than they had to, regardless of how friendly the listener might be.

"I hope you are right. Doing the right thing sounds so simple. As though even if the path isn't easy, determining the right direction should be. But in practice..."

They both let that sentence hang, no less true because it hadn't been finished. She and Pietro had thought they were doing the right thing, even factoring in their need for vengeance, in trying to stop the Stark led Avengers assuming too much control and power. Stark and Banner thought they were doing the right thing when they created Ultron. Captain America and the twins wanted to stop their second attempt - and then Thor, whose ideals were every bit as noble as Steve's, swift in and the result was the Vision. So many disagreements in so many ways and everyone always sure that what they were doing was right.

Was it any wonder Wanda worried about unleashing her full potential, when even trying to do the right thing led you into a quagmire of different opinions?

"So what would you recommend?" Wanda asked, changing the subject - less for herself then for Natasha.

"Accept what you are and perfect it. Maybe the reason you cannot achieve your full potential is that you fear to - but if you fear your powers you're hobbling yourself before you even start" Natasha responded, and Wanda was sure that it was a comment spoken from some experience. "You can't let yourself fear yourself - or you will always doubt yourself and hold back. It's not always easy. But I think it's what you need. That perhaps...it's not just that your abilities are more complicated than your brother's, but that he is more comfortable with his lot. I think that's what you need to figure out. Whether you do it alone, or talk it through - you're not the only person on this team who was 'enhanced' and changed by science after all - but you've got to get there". Wanda nodded slowly, standing up after a moment on legs that still felt weak and shook beneath her.

"I'll do my best".


End file.
